Hell Hath No Fury
by Plaguemoose
Summary: She's grumpy, she's vicious, and she reeks of motor oil. Join Warbird, one of very few girls plucked out of the Citadel's common people to become a war boy, as she attempts to understand her world, struggles to maintain some form of control over her precious boys, and finds herself caught up in something far more revolutionary than she imagined. Nux/OC T for now; rating may change
1. Prologue

The crowd surged forward, scrambling over each other, clawing and fighting their way toward the water that gushed down toward them. A little girl fought to stay upright as their legs hit her, knees colliding with her face and feet narrowly missing her own as everyone clamored past, climbing over each other and ignoring the child that was tangled up in everyone's legs. She didn't want to be there, not at all—but it wasn't her choice. Her father was sick, her mother was weak, and the baby couldn't even cry at night anymore. So each week her mother sent her with a water pouch while she herself also fought for the most precious resource in the citadel, often abandoning her daughter to get closer while the child was left to fend for herself. If the girl didn't come back with water, she was beaten until she understood why it was so important that she didn't let her family down. She had bruises and scars and a bad hip from the time her mother kicked her so hard she lost feeling in her right leg for a day, and even though she walked with a limp, she was still sent to collect the water or face the wrath that awaited her at home if she failed.

A knee to the back sent the girl flying forward and she landed with a thud against the back of a large man. He stumbled but otherwise ignored her, choosing instead to continue throwing the people in front of him out of the way. The child followed in his wake until she reached the water, where she began dodging the punches the adults threw at each other and raised her water pouch to collect as much as she could before she was inevitably tossed out of the way.

As the water poured down, she couldn't help but smile. Nothing felt better than cool water on her hot skin, and it washed away the dirt and sand and blood and grime that usually coated her. For those few seconds, she finally felt…clean. New. Shiny.

She heard the _shing_ of a blade being pulled out and her head snapped around, searching for it. She knew that sound; she had been knicked more than a few times already today. There were no rules amongst the people of the citadel when it came to harming each other. Only the strong survived, and if that meant harming a child for food, nobody gave it a second thought. A child was just a small adult, right? Little blighters that took up space and cried for too much food and water. Crude, rusty knives were often used to ward them off, just like they were used against other adults when the rush for water began.

Usually, it was a stranger that she watched being attacked, just another dirty face in the crowd. People blended together down in the dirt, always moving in mobs like giant inhuman masses. She was never troubled when people died. She saw a lot of death, and never thought too much about it. It was what happened, and it awaited everybody eventually, right? Life was short in the citadel, especially for people like her, who had to fight for the most basic resources. But this time, as she looked up, she found that the blade was being pointed toward her own face. She wanted to scream, but suddenly her throat felt very dry despite being surrounded by so much water. Her eyes widened as her heart began thudding.

She saw a lot of death, but she didn't want to die.

"Gimme that water carrier, ya little mite!" the knife man snarled.

She whimpered and dropped the pouch, backing up and immediately being stopped as she ran into someone. There were people all around her, a tightly knit sea of bodies that prevented any escape. She wasn't ready for Valhalla yet. She was just a child! She had to live somehow, there had to be a way, any way, anything…. She tried to turn around, to find some way out, but the man only pressed the knife up against her throat as he bent down to snatch up the water pouch.

The woman blocking her escape was suddenly pushed to the ground by another person desperately trying to get water, and the girl could finally see a way out. In the second the man's eyes were trained on the pouch on the ground, she grabbed the knife, the rusty metal cutting into her palm as she pushed it away from her and ran, weaving between legs and ignoring the pain that erupted in her face as someone's knee collided with her nose. Another knife flashed before her, this one being held at someone's hip as they planned to stab anyone in their way. She closed her eyes and tried to duck, still running and pushing her way through the crowd, but the blade lightly slashed her forehead and suddenly she could feel blood running down in front of her eyes.

Everything was painful and she just wanted it to end, but as her heart thudded in her chest, she knew that she couldn't stop running. She didn't even have the pouch to bring back to her dying father, and she knew that when she showed up without it, her mother would do something even worse than what happened to her hip last time. What was she supposed to do? Where could she go?

She got her answer when she finally made it to the edge of the crowd and stopped to breathe, doubling over toward the dirt. Her hip felt like it was on fire, there was blood in her eyes, and her entire face was throbbing, but she finally felt like she could breathe again. As she started to stand up again, she suddenly felt a new pain in her ribs as a boot collided with them, sending her up and flying away.

"Outta my way!" was all she heard from the man who was foolishly late for collecting water and was now forcing his way up through the crowd to fight for the last drops. With a groan, she curled onto her side, hugging her painful abdomen, silent sobs wracking her body. The pain was too much. Everything hurt all over, and as it continued to surge through her, she felt herself begin to tremble. She couldn't breathe again. She couldn't do anything, it felt like. She didn't even know where she was, only that the ground underneath her was…not dirt?

"The hell's this?" a boot nudged her and she curled up smaller. Please, no, go away….

The floor began to move up. "Should we throw her back down? Seems dead."

"Not dead, idiot! It moved." The boot nudged her again and she found the energy to kick out, searching for the person who was making her already hurt ribs hurt more. Her bare foot collided with a shin and she heard swearing followed by a chorus of bellowing laughter.

"Fuckin'…my leg! Throw her off!"

"Naw, we're keepin' her! Call her another prize from today's scavenging!"

The girl finally uncurled slightly, just enough to peek up at the voices. She was surrounded by pale faces, some covered in scars, some bumpy, and some bloody. War boys. The elevator guardians. She had never seen them this close, only from a distance when everybody else tried to reach them when they came down or back up on the platform…was she there now? She couldn't tell. Her vision was getting fuzzy.

"Take her to Organic Mechanic," one of them said, kneeling down. He reached out and lifted one of her quickly closing eyelids. "Hey, you awake?"

That was the last thing she heard.

The war boy glanced at the elevator guardians, who narrowed their eyes before one of them nodded. "Never had a girl pup. Looks tough if she made it all the way here. Or maybe Joe'll like her, eh?" They roared with laughed.

"We had a good day. Might as well. If she dies, she dies. If she lives, she either brings life or dies anyway. No harm in that." The other said gruffly as he ceased laughing.

The war boy scooped her up and the others all leaned in curiously. The only women they ever saw up close were the milk mothers, and this girl was very far from them. She was tiny, and as one boy picked up her arm, they could see how thin she was. That wasn't right, was it? Girls weren't supposed to look like that. Did Immortan Joe's wives look like that? Probably not, though none of them were allowed to see the wives. The milk mothers certainly didn't have that many bones sticking out of them. Her hair was matted, her clothes were tattered, and they could see that she was in need of a blood bag or two. There were cuts on her face and scars all over her arms and she reminded them of themselves sometimes. They always took care of each other, so is that why they wanted to take care of her in some way?

"Take her to mechanic," one of the boys said as they reached the top. The others muttered in agreement before leaving, suddenly much more interested in their cars than the speck of dirt they had picked up. The war boy holding her was left to look at her a little more. She was leaking a lot of blood. If she were his lancer, he'd be concerned…but she wasn't. She was just another pup now, coming from where they all came from. Just another lucky commoner who probably wouldn't survive the week.


	2. Warbird

Her broken nose had actually saved her, and it was the reason she was currently muscling her way past dusty war boys, snarling at them when they refused to move but otherwise tolerating them well, as she usually did. Had her face been intact and her gait perfect, she probably would have been taken as a wife, the last thing she would ever want. Thankfully, Immortan Joe hadn't even considered her, and she was immediately tossed in with the rest of the pups and when she was old enough, the boys. They looked up to her, crooked nose, bad hip, nasty snarl and all. The boys that had brought her up were all dead now, ten years later, killed either on the fury road or by their own half lives. She hoped she would meet them in Valhalla, assuming the doors had opened to them and both she and they were awaited.

War pups stared as she stomped past, their bald little heads swiveling to follow her and the limp body she dragged along behind her. Another blood bag, hopefully a universal donor. She was known to take blood bags from Gastown and Bullet Farm even, resulting in a few nasty skirmishes between "allies" and several angry words from Immortan Joe. He would have killed her long ago, were she not so valuable when it came to keeping the boys in line. She was troublesome, but good at what she did.

She deposited the blood bag in front of Organic Mechanic and continued on her way, only stopping when she had reached the cars. She sat on the nearest available hood, exhausted and in desperate need of nursing her hip. The mechanic gave her creams for it, but past that there was nothing that could heal the old injury. She wished she could forget how she received it, but unlike the rest of the boys, she found that she remembered most of her childhood. Sometimes she thought about her mother and wondered if she knew where her little girl was now, or if she was even alive. Her father surely wasn't, and the baby, well…babies didn't last long in the citadel.

Violence suddenly erupted as a few war pups in front of her started throwing punches, arguing over wrenches. She watched them for a moment before intervening from her place on the car. "Hey!"

They froze at the sharp tone, both looking up at her.

"Cut it out," she said sternly. "And come here."

They both hung their heads. They were young, fresh and new and only just now ready for their first ride on the fury road as real war boys. They each had a few scars, but not nearly as many as their older counterparts did.

"Apologies, Warbird…" they both saluted her with the triangle.

Her nostrils flared in irritation but she sighed instead of chastising them. She supposed it frightened them to some degree, her constant state of anger. But it wasn't because of them, no…never because of them. She outranked them, and so she felt that they were her pups, her boys, her flock. It was her damned hip, constantly flaring up, making it so that she sometimes couldn't walk without some sort of aid. A few of the older boys would occasionally help her, and at least it showed the new recruits that she was something to be respected. Were she not so adept at her job, she would have been killed while she was still a pup, but thankfully she was good at what she did: training, leading, keeping the boys in line…she could do it all, despite her disability.

"Apology accepted," she saluted them lazily in return and they tilted their heads.

"Are you alright, Warbird?" the one on the right asked.

"Sit." She commanded. They obeyed, one sitting on either side. She feared that she would need one or both of them to help her back to her sleeping place later, and none of the older boys had returned from their day out on the road yet. She might as well teach these new ones a thing or two. "I may need you two."

"Is it your hip?" the one on her left blurted out.

She looked at him in irritation. "Yes."

"How'd it get that way?"

"It was a long time ago. Never healed."

He was about to ask another question when the three of them suddenly heard cheering and engines growing closer. The boys were back, presumably with something good, based on the amount of noise they were making.

"Another lovely day on the Fury Road!" a voice called above the rest.

As the cars drove in, the younger boys that had remained inside for the day all jumped up, running alongside and cheering with the rest. The one sitting on Warbird's left couldn't contain his excitement and sprang from his place, sprinting ahead to see what was going on. She motioned for the one on her right to help her stand, and as she leaned heavily on him, one of the returning war boys climbed from his car with her in his sights and leaped forward, scrambling toward her. The others all crowded behind him, still cheering and chanting various things.

"For our Warbird," she raised an eyebrow as he held something out toward her and bowed his head. She smiled as she saw what was in his outstretched hands. Three short feathers, all glossy black.

"They're wonderful, Nux." she said as she took them from him. He watched her hopefully, glancing at the feathers and then her face and then back to the feathers. He wanted to braid them into her hair. "You caught me just as I was wanting to head back for the night."

His face fell and her mouth twitched in a smile. She always tried to give back to them as her way of apologizing for her sour moods, and one of those ways was by allowing them to put feathers in her hair if they brought them back for her. This led to them bringing her countless gifts and trinkets each time they went out on the Fury Road, and she wasn't complaining. It was a nice game for them, and she enjoyed it as well.

The others all began dispersing, going to tend to their cars or find blood bags for those who needed it, and she dismissed the pup that was holding her up. He happily ran off to find someone to bother, but the boy with the feathers remained, still looking at her hopefully.

"Help me back to my rooms," she requested. She knew this boy from his recent successes out on the road, coming back with blood bags and keeping his team alive and well almost every time. Each time she saw him it seemed like he had new scars on his chest, additions to the engine carved into his skin. She had actually added a few herself.

He happily obliged, offering a pale, clay and dust covered arm for her to use as they slowly made their way across the citadel. They only stopped when they passed Rictus Erectus and Nux struggled to make the triangle while still allowing Warbird to stand up straight. She didn't salute Immortan Joe's son, and the two exchanged angry glances and wrinkled brows, his expression much icier than hers. He wanted her dead, probably, and he probably had for a very long time, but his father wouldn't allow it and so she was safe for the time being. There was no telling how long that was, but it was longer than it could be, and that's what mattered. She didn't like him because of his power, and he didn't like her because of her disrespect; at least the feelings were mutual.

"You're allowed to speak," she commented to Nux as they neared her room, eager to rid the air of the negative energy that followed Rictus. He wasn't a war boy…at least not a war boy like her and Nux. He did was his father asked him to, and while she couldn't condemn him for that, it left a bad taste in her mouth whenever she accepted orders from him, especially on a day like today, when he had glared at her like that.

Nux cleared his throat as they pulled the red curtain obscuring the doorway aside and stepped into the small chamber. "I've never been in one of these rooms is all." He let her go to sit on her bed and he looked around, peering at things in jars. "You have goo?"

She smiled. "From Organic Mechanic."

He whirled around to look at her. "For what?"

"My hip. It makes it hurt less."

"Oh…" he left the jars to stand before her. "What happened to it?"

"I might tell you someday." He took that as his cue to drop the subject and instead sat down next to her. "Here." She grabbed a small pot sitting on the stand next to her bed and handed it to him. "Oil."

He smiled and dipped his fingers into the black goop, slicking some into her Mohawk before reaching for the feathers. She always smelled like an engine, and he loved it. All the boys did, but him especially. He enjoyed what little time they had spent together, he enjoyed it immensely; he only wished she spent more time with him and less with the older war boys. As he twisted the oil into her hair, he couldn't help but sigh happily. She was like a car. Tough, decorated, and always working, never failing or falling apart. She was also the only war boy he knew who had hair.

"Rex almost went to Valhalla today," Nux said, breaking the short silence that had fallen over them.

"Almost?"

He began braiding the feather into her hair, winding the strands around it until it stuck in place, blending it with the others. "His car flipped outside Bullet Farm just as he was 'boutta grab his chrome." His eyes lit up as he relived the moment. "There we were, out in the wastes, the fury road stretchin' on for days, when outta nowhere—"

The sudden tearing of cloth and a loud, angry grunt made him freeze and look up, then immediately shrink back. The curtain in the carved stone doorway fell to the floor in a tattered heap. Boots stomped over it and Nux was pulled to his feet and promptly shoved out the door by large, pale arms. Warbird recoiled as they lunged for her as well, scrambling over her bed in her attempt to get away.

"What do you want, Rictus?" she snapped as she watched him step back from her.

"Out," he ordered, staring sternly down at her.

"This is my room!" she fumed, practically hissing. " _I_ sleep here, _I_ make the rules. _You're_ in _my_ room, so _you can leave."_

He was unimpressed by the small angry war boy in front of him and moved toward the bed again, reaching over it to grab her. She didn't have the guts to fight past a few lazy kicks and a good amount of wiggling; as much as she hated it, he was in charge. It felt wrong to do anything other than voice her displeasure. She had been taught better than that.

Nux looked on nervously from the doorway as Rictus threw an extremely displeased Warbird over his shoulder. Immortan Joe's son didn't have time for pleasantries, and the easiest way to accomplish his goal was to simply carry the small angry Warbird away from her so called "room." She began trying to snatch up some of her belongings as he turned, swinging her dangerously close to the stone wall as he did so.

"Nux, grab my oils!" she huffed as she clawed halfheartedly at Rictus's back. The war boy looked nervously at the two of them before creeping past as quickly as he could. "Put them in a bag," Warbird grumbled, giving Rictus an angry punch in the spine.

"Stop that!" Rictus roared, jostling her. Her right hip slammed against his jaw and she screeched in pain, struggling for real now against his grip as pain erupted at the site of her old injury. "I said STOP!"

She was growing light headed from being upside down like this so she obeyed, hanging limply. She glanced up, the blood rushing to her head almost making her sick right there, and saw Nux hurriedly shoving jars into the bag she had told him to get. Rictus began stomping away without another word, and Warbird was left to hang her head and squeeze her eyes shut in hope that he would let her go to regain her dignity soon. Hopefully he wouldn't parade her past all the other war boys, and even more importantly, wouldn't drop her onto the cold, hard floor.

That fear was probably the only reason she wasn't more determined to get into a more upright position; she could trust the other war boys. She had almost always been able to. She knew they wouldn't purposely let anything touch her bad hip, because if she were to get hurt, not only would she begin throwing wrenches and tire irons, but the older boys would come down on them like a second end to the world.

Thankfully, Rictus walked quickly, although she couldn't tell where to, and she didn't have to keep clinging for a horribly long amount of time. She heard Nux following along, the jars clinking against each other in the bag he carried for her. Wherever they were headed, she hoped they would get there soon. She could feel the blood pooling in her brain as she clung to him, her hip still throbbing as he stomped through the stone corridors. She could hear the confused mumblings of boys as they passed and groaned quietly to herself. Thankfully she was too lightheaded to get any angrier than she already was, and her limbs began tingling before she could yell at them.

"Where are we going?" she grumbled instead.

"Right-" Rictus turned through a doorway and stomped to a halt. "—here."

In the second she felt him begin to move, she knew her fears were coming true, and he dropped her. It didn't look as impressive as it felt to her, as she was tossed to the floor, but it felt very slow, and something that wouldn't have even phased another war boy felt like a death sentence to her. She yelped as she first began to fall, and against her will she cried out when her hip took the brunt of her fall, tears of pain immediately flooding her eyes as she instinctively curled up. Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out everything but Rictus Erectus's roaring laughter. As if she didn't need another stab to her honor today, he nudged her with his foot, pressing the toe of his boot just a bit too threateningly into her side as she lay still with fear, pain, and embarrassment all rolled into one emotion, her breath coming heavily as she swallowed back screams of pain.

"You live here now, little broken bird," she heard him say amidst his rumbling laughter. Thankfully he was the only one making any noise past her pained breathing. Maybe he and Nux were the only other two in the room.

She heard him leave, his chuckles growing quieter as he got further away, and almost allowed herself to sob like she wanted to. This wasn't what war boys did. When they were hurt, they got back up again and kept going, and she had always done that before. She choked back more tears and rolled weakly onto her belly, pushing herself up on shaky arms. She needed to be alone, and she needed to heal herself, and she needed to find out what she had done to deserve this, and—

She felt herself being lifted faster than her arms would push as someone picked her up around the waist and then guided her to her feet. Together they walked a few steps to a musty pile of old blankets, and before her knees could buckle, she looked up to see an entire room of war boys and pups staring at her.

Her stomach dropped slightly as she saw all of them there, unmoving, unsure of what to do after watching the Prince of the Wasteland drag her in and leave her. They didn't know why she was there, and she didn't know either, but it must have been important for Rictus to be sent for her. He was in charge of the war boys, but he almost never did anything of his own volition.

She looked at their pale faces, a pit forming in her chest as she began to feel more and more like she had somehow let them down just by appearing this weak in front of them. They valued strength and then death, with nothing in between. Life was too short to be a crippled war boy. As the seconds passed by and no one moved, she began realizing that they were going to leave her now, and before she knew it she would be alone in the sand, left behind like she should have been all along.

"Hey," Nux looked at her with concern as she swayed dangerously. "You need food."

As if that was there cue, the older boys rushed into action, a few running to find her a few roasted lizards or rats and a few others hurrying to take her from Nux. She shoved weakly against them as two balled and fluffed up the blankets to form a cushion and a third supported her weight for her with his arms beneath hers as she sat lopsidedly on it. She was pathetic. She couldn't even sit down on her own.

The younger war boys and the pups suddenly surged forward, all sitting or laying near her so closely that when the older boys brought her some measly food scraps, they could barely find the floor between the pale bodies that covered it. She accepted a skewered double headed rat and began picking at the meat, trying to eat it but suddenly finding herself not very hungry. Even as Nux kicked a pup out of the way to sit next to her, she admitted that she didn't want it and put it down, much to the dismay of the crowd watching her.

"Right, speak up," Morsov said. "Tell us what happened."

She opened her mouth and her voice came out much differently than she expected. "I did something wrong."

"What was it?" another war boy kicked a pup out of the way to sit next to Nux.

She shook her head slowly, trying to remember the past few days or even moon cycles. She couldn't think of anything that she had done, and especially nothing that Joe would have found out about. She hadn't done anything unusual lately, just going back and forth between the Citadel and Fury Road, the same thing she always did. It didn't make sense, none of it did. She had stayed in that room for a long, _long_ time, and no one had ever even come in to interrupt her sleeping, much less throw her out.

"Nothing?" Nux asked. "Nothing at all?"

She shook her head again, pausing midway. There was something she had done recently. Something that she wasn't at all supposed to do. Something that, if he had found out, would make Immortan Joe extremely angry with her, angry enough to isolate her with the war boys once again.

"No," she said slowly. "Nothing."


	3. The Second One

Warbird woke in the middle of the night to find herself surrounded by war boys, the pups sleeping on top of the more complacent boys. The room was cold, and she was grateful for their warmth, but very ungrateful for the hard stone floor. As she tried to adjust her position, not even daring trying to roll over, she found that pain shot through her, sweat breaking out across her forehead as her already damaged joints protested the ground they were forced to lay on.

She was useless. She could barely move. What was she supposed to do now? It was too painful for her to sleep again, and even if she could stand on her own and leave, she knew that Rictus would find her and just do the same thing as before, only a bit less merciful this time. Besides, the floor was literally covered in sleeping war boys. There was no way she was leaving.

The body behind her stirred and she turned her head to see Nux, his brow furrowed as he rolled over to face her. His eyes cracked open and he scooted toward her on his elbows until he was close enough that she could feel his breath on his face as he checked her over.

"How're you feeling?" he asked quietly.

"Fantastic." She answered bitterly.

"Do you want anything? Water? Food?" Nux looked at her hopefully. "More blankets?"

Warbird shook her head. "I don't…I just want the pain to go away." She squeezed her eyes shut and reached out, patting his arm to make sure he was paying attention. "Did you bring the goo?"

"Goo?"

"In the jar? From the room?"

"OH!" he nodded excitedly. "You want it?"

She nodded even though he was already reaching over her to grab the bag he had brought in and presented it to her. "Which one?"

"It's green—" she tried to push herself up and slipped back down with a grunt of pain. "FUCK!"

The loud cursing startled a few war pups awake, but as they started wiggling and attempting to free themselves from the mass of sleeping bodies they were trapped in, the older boys shushed them, or kicked them, or rolled over on top of them, once they themselves had realized there was no danger. They were used to loud cursing in the middle of the night.

"Hey, shh!" Nux hissed. He pulled the jar out of the bag and started stirring the cream inside around with his fingers. "Trying to wake up the entire Citadel or something?"

Warbird huffed in reply. "You'll have to help me pull my trousers off. I can't move much."

Nux put the jar down again and wiped his hands on his pants. "Hold still. Or don't. Help me as much as you can."

After a few minutes of wiggling and pained groans, Warbird's hip was exposed, and Nux did his best to suppress the noises of shock and surprise that his throat was trying to make. Her skin was covered in dark, bloody bruises, and he suspected that a hip wasn't supposed to be shaped quite the way hers was.

"Tell me if it hurts." He dipped his fingers into the goo and started smearing it onto the bruises, ignoring her as she flinched at the cold cream. A few moments later she began to relax, breathing in and out heavily.

"Better?" Nux asked hopefully as he paused in his work.

She nodded. "Better."

He put the jar down. "Do you want your trousers back up or would you rather enjoy the draft for a while?"

She snorted and did her best to throw a punch at his arm. "I don't like the breeze very much, no thank you." A few more minutes of wiggling and she was covered again, safely protected from the cold and drafty air that had previously assaulted her. With a sigh, she tried to make herself as comfortable as possible, but gave up almost immediately. She was used to sleepless nights, but they were usually made better by a bed beneath her and weren't usually caused by the trauma of falling several feet onto cold stone.

Nux frowned as he watched her. She didn't seem very happy to be there. War boys were usually happy amongst each other, though, so maybe all she needed was good companionship and then she would feel better. She also didn't seem very comfortable, and while he could sympathize with her there, he also knew the best way to make it better.

"Here," he said, offering an arm to her. When she did nothing but stare, he rolled his eyes. "I'm going to make you comfy. Come on."

She allowed him to pull her to his side and then watched as he repeatedly smacked the sleeping war boy next to him until he woke up with a snarl. "What do you want?!"

"Shut up, Slit." Nux snapped. "Warbird isn't comfortable."

" _I'm_ not comfortable," Slit grumbled as he sat up and pulled a blanket closer. "Here."

Nux stood and crouched so that he could nudge Warbird over and grab the blankets she had been previously using. He tossed them over her to Slit and together they made a Warbird-sized nest for her, bunching them up at the sides. Then Nux scooped her up and pushed her over to them, after which he laid down close to her, sprawling out on his back so that she could use his outstretched arm as a pillow. Slit continued grumbling as he settled down again on her other side but stayed close, his skin brushing her side as she angled her hip and positioned herself so that it hurt slightly less.

The two war boys were warm, and she was beginning to remember what it had been like back when she used to sleep there next to them every night, before she was given her own room. She and the other pups her age would cluster together until the older boys fell asleep, or were close enough to unconsciousness that the children could find places to sleep near or on top of them without very much fuss. War boys all slept next to each other most nights, for warmth, protection, and comfort. Occasionally they would change rooms and sleep in their cars, but those were gritty and cold, and as much as their lives revolved around them, cars like those were not for sleeping in.

As independent as war boys were, they still all worked together, and they still all knew of their own mortality and their fleeting lives. They longed to be witnessed, for honorable deaths, for the right to enter Valhalla, but that was all during battle; at night, when the Citadel was quiet and all were sleeping, there was no such thing as the glory of battle on the fury road. When they were outside, driving under the blazing sun, they often forgot about their half-lives, but in the safety of the Citadel's caverns, they were reminded of the fact that they were all slowly dying. Most wouldn't admit it, but it haunted them, and they didn't want to die cold and alone and in a slow, aching pain. They sought comfort in each other, and that often meant clumping together. They took care of each other, especially the pups, and if one suddenly discovered new lumps and bumps on himself, it was up to the older boys to console him. They were, in a lot of ways, a family.

It had been a few years since Warbird had felt the comfort of being so near her companions, and she curled up as small as she could without her pain increasing, just like she had as a pup. She used to snuggle up with polecats and lancers and their drivers, until she had surpassed them in rank, gotten her tattoos, and began staying in her own room. But now here she was again, in the same place she had started out, all because of one conversation that had gotten her in enough trouble to probably be demoted. She had probably been stripped of her rank as imperator, and she was not at all looking forward to receiving that information in the morning.

The two war boys on either side of her fell asleep almost immediately, and as she was finally beginning to doze off, she heard the pattering of small feet and felt a war pup snuggle in on top of Slit. He grunted but didn't wake, and Warbird cracked her eyes open to see the pup make itself comfy. It was tiny, probably only just picked up by the elevator guardians sometime in the past few days. Small and young and most likely pretty scared, in a new place with a few new sights and sounds, but also a new family to be taken care of by.

Warbird closed her eyes again and felt herself relax and begin to enjoy the comforts that surrounded her. Her heartbeat slowed, and as Nux began snoring softly, she finally let her head rest on his outstretched arm. The last thing she remembered was the feeling of a war pup curling up at her feet.

There was no sunlight to stream in and wake the war boys up, nor were there any birds to sing. There was nothing charming or lovely about dozens of lancers and polecats, counterweights, drivers, welders, revheads, medics, and the whole lot of them waking up grumpily to hungry stomachs and sore backs. It was a sight to behold as they all began to rise and swarm to find food. As chaotic as it was, though, they were still not as desperate as the people down below when they fought for access to water. War boys threw occasional punches, but real fights were rare, and the pups were always minded if one broke out. When one of the youngest's toes were accidentally smashed, the polecat at fault immediately scooped him up and took him away from the crowd to be examined for broken bones and new bumps. There were several boys who were declared the unofficial war pup den mothers, Warbird included, but almost all of them watched out for the children. Even the littlest warrior deserved to ride to Valhalla someday.

Slit and Nux began to stir at roughly the same time, Slit grouchily nudging the pup that had fallen asleep on top of him away. As Warbird began attempting to push herself up into a sitting position, Nux shot up next to her and immediately ordered the nearby pup to bring food.

"Go on, it's for your Warbird!" he said impatiently when the pup hesitated.

"She's your imperator," Slit added. "You do what imperators want, pup."

The child shrank back a step and Warbird rolled her eyes. "You're scaring him. And I can get food on my own."

Nux and Slit glanced at each other with concerned expressions. "You're sure?" Nux asked. "You can't hardly even sit, let alone stand and _walk."_

She knew he was right, but now that she had said she would do it, she wasn't about to back off and let someone else do things that she should be able to do on her own. "Yes. Help me up."

Slit offered his hand to pull her up as Nux grabbed her under the arms and helped her move forward. Her muscles were sore, and she winced as she tried to take a step only to find pins and needles in her feet. She leaned heavily on Nux as pain flared up in her hip and sucked in a rattly breath. Walking had never been so difficult for her.

"You alright?" Nux asked.

Warbird only nodded in response and took a small step forward, Slit hovering behind her, ready for her to crumple to the floor. "We need to take you to Organic Mechanic."

She nodded again. "Yes, please-" out of the corner of her eye she noticed the pup standing there only a few lengths away and stopped midsentence to turn toward the little boy. "You must be hungry."

He looked up at her with wide eyes and nodded, and she took in the sight of his newly chalked skin and freshly shaved head. He really was a tiny thing; he couldn't have been more than just a few years old, and by the looks of his ill fitting pants and bare feet, no one had managed to give him reliable clothing yet. That meant that he was a fresh new recruit, probably picked up just yesterday. He must have spent most of his time sitting with the other pups in that very room that day, as they often did before they began mechanical training.

"Come here." Warbird offered her hand and the pup ran up and took it, immediately sticking closely to her side. "We go together."

The pup was nervous as they began walking again towards food, especially when the boys would turn and look at him. The elevator people had been rough, and then the next thing he knew he was being shoved along in a crowd, painted and chalked, and then suddenly nighttime had come. He hadn't known who it was he had ended up sleeping by…he had just seen the others all go and find little nooks and crannies and decided that he should, too. He hadn't known that this was an imperator. He had never even seen one up close before this.

"Did they give you a name?"

He glanced up at her and nodded. He had never seen someone like her. She looked a little like his mother had, but she was a boy, wasn't she?

"What is it?"

He just stared up.

"Not bright, is he?" Slit said bluntly.

"Scuttle," the pup said quietly, still staring up at Warbird.

She quirked an eyebrow. "Scuttle?"

He nodded, eyes ever widening as he looked back in front of him and saw that the war boys parted like an ocean in front of them. He had never felt so important in his life.

"Here," Nux stopped them in front of a large makeshift kettle. About a dozen war boys milled around it, reaching in cautiously to pick out boiling hot strips of meat. "Lizard's on the menu."

Slit wrinkled his nose. "Again."

"It's better than nothing," Warbird reminded him as Nux left them to fish out over—or sometimes under—cooked desert lizard. It wasn't the best, especially when overcooked, but until they could bring back more raided food, they were stuck with it.

Warbird seized Slit's arm and he immediately tensed and flexed. She wasn't sure if he was being touchy or helpful, but either way, it allowed her to lower herself to the floor to rest again. Scuttle sat next to her and Slit eventually joined when it became clear that Nux was going to take longer than his friend hoped.

"How's it feel eating with us again, imperator?" he asked, his scarred mouth pulled back into a grin.

Warbird looked at him. "I missed it."

He was a bit taken aback. "What? Why?"

"Because living alone is so…lonely." She admitted as she attempted to sit comfortably, moving slowly as she tried to gently adjust herself. "Sleeping at night with no one next to you is too quiet. It's cold and boring and…yeah, lonely."

His grin widened slightly. "Not like you _had_ to spend your time alone. Tons of the boys would've joined you."

"Yeah? Would you've?"

His grin fell. "I—no—I mean, if you'd asked."

Scuttle made a small snorting noise and Slit cuffed him lightly over the head before covering the pup's ears. "No more out of you." He clamped down with both arms as Scuttle began wiggling and whining to be freed, ignoring his plight as if he had done this before several times, and turned his attention back to Warbird. "Really, though. What's the point in not?"

She shrugged. "Pain. Can't exactly get my back smashed out when my hip's like this, you know?"

"But you would otherwise?"

"I s'pose I would. I have before, but…" She thought about it for a moment. "The pain wasn't worth it. It's s'posed to be fun, right? That's the only point in doing it. Not like I'm a breeder or something. But when it hurts like that it can't be fun, so there's no point."

"So…you can't…?"

"Can't what?"

"Can't make one of _these_." He nodded very pointedly at Scuttle.

"No. Don't think so at least.

"Good. They're too much work." He let Scuttle go again. "Always asking for food and back rides. 'But we need it to survive!' Know what I need to survive? Not those toes diggin' in my back all night."

"Aw Slit, you know you love 'em," they glanced up to see Nux returning with breakfast. "Had to fight polecats for these. Told 'em they were feeding the imperator for a special raid. Eat up before they realize we aren't going anywhere anytime soon."


	4. The Third One

One of Warbird's favorite things to do was sit on the edge of the Citadel and look out over the sand and dust to the horizon. She wasn't quite sure where the sky started and where the land ended, but she imagined it was pretty far away, and she wished she could go there. Sure, she could drive out there, but with a limited supply of pretty much everything and chronic disabilities that meant she was more likely to be targeted should she stop for more, it wasn't likely that she would be traveling very far very soon. Not alone, at least; with some of her boys, it would be possible.

It wasn't that she was afraid. The way she wanted it, nobody knew she was afraid of anything. She had a few fears, but none of them were directly related to traveling alone. When choosing not to do so, she was just regretfully accepting the cards she was dealt with, and trying to understand that there were some things she couldn't do. Within the Citadel, she was respected, at least by the warboys and pups, but out there, past Bullet Farm and Gastown, nobody knew who she was, and nobody really cared. It was cruel and vicious in the rest of world, even more so than in the Citadel, and while she wanted to take it on by herself, she just couldn't.

The place where red-orange and blue met at the horizon was her favorite. The convergence of colors was bright, and it was different from what she saw all day while working on cars or training the boys. It almost hurt her eyes, and in a way it unsettled her, looking out at those colors without being on a raid or in a car in general. That's why she liked coming and sitting at the edge; she could see the sky without being in a car. She could stare at it for as long as she wanted without dust on a windshield or the roaring of engines. It was calm, for once, and calmness was rare for a warboy.

She heard someone approaching and turned slightly to look in their direction. Nux was napping at her side, lounging on his back with his head resting back against his arms. He had walked her outside after breakfast and stared at the sky for a while with her before settling in for a midday nap. He didn't stir as Furiosa sat on Warbird's other side.

"I heard about what happened," she began. Warbird tilted her head to listen. "I was out when it did. Were you given a reason?"

Warbird shook her head. "No. Rictus didn't speak much, but you know him."

Furiosa offered a weak smile. "No word from his father?"

"No. But there's only one thing it could be. I don't know how he found out, but he did. He knows enough." She fully turned toward Furiosa. "You need to be careful. This is serious. Demoting me was just the beginning, and if you're caught-"

"I won't be." Furiosa interrupted.

Warbird felt a wave of irritation rising inside her. "Are you suggesting it was my fault he found out?"

"I'm suggesting that I'm going to learn from this." She sighed. "Is he asleep?" she nodded towards Nux.

Warbird only nodded. He wasn't waking up anytime soon, based on his snoring.

"They need me. They need _us._ They need hope." She looked Warbird in the eyes. "They're pretty, and they're pure, and they're perfect. They're beautiful in every way. They have shiny hair and soft skin and clean hands that have never touched a wrench before, but they're the unlucky ones. Their beauty got them where they are, and it isn't their fault they're there, just like it isn't our fault that we weren't perfect enough."

Warbird shrugged and nodded hesitantly in agreement. Her hip had saved her from becoming one of Joe's brides far before she began developing the same ailments that all warboys came down with. Her half life was just as potent as theirs, and while she was placed in front of explosions and oil fires and guns every day, she would always choose that over becoming a bride. She imagined Furiosa felt similarly.

"We have to help them," she pleaded.

"I know."

"I can take the rig soon."

"There won't be room for me with all of them there." Warbird grimaced. "And I'm not exactly very mobile at the moment. I'll support you from here, but that's all I can do. I can't go with you."

Furiosa's face fell. "We need you with us."

"My place is with the boys." Warbird said firmly. Though lower ranking, she was a few years older than Furiosa. They treated each other equally, but at times, Warbird felt that she was the only one capable of standing over the other imperator. "I'll help you leave. I'll get you supplies. But if I'm caught again, Rictus will come after me, and he'll do much more than drop me on my hip."

Furiosa set her jaw for a moment before relaxing. "Any help is better than no help. If that's what you agree to, so be it. I won't argue." She stood to leave once more. "Repeat none of this. I'm going to speak with the wives. Keep yourself safe."

Warbird just watched her go before laying down next to Nux. She hadn't intended to get tangled up in this. She had never even intended to speak to any of the women Joe isolatd within their perfect chambers. It had been an accident, a one time event that should never have even happened, and yet here it was, roaring out of hand.

She knew she had to help them. She knew that they deserved better, and she knew that what Joe did to them was something that she would never want done to her. The problem was, as much as she knew this, she was only one person, and so was Furiosa. If Warbird had all of the boys directly under her command, it would go much differently than what Furiosa was planning; she could overthrow Immortan Joe entirely and take his place, and there would be no need for any real plans. But that wasn't the case, and as she reflected on the conversation that had just occurred, she began accepting that it was probably the only course of action that was semi rational.

The war rig was huge. Eighteen wheels and two massive engines hauled the water and milk tanker, behind which trailed a fuel pod. The boys had plenty of places to hang, jump, and walk on while attached to the rig, and for many of them it was their favorite vehicle to be clinging to at any given time. It was big, brawny, battle tested, and Furiosa's own truck. There was plenty of room to hide the brides inside the cab, and it was plenty protected. Despite all of that, Warbird didn't fancy the idea of going with them. She didn't like the sound of lying her way to taking the rig with Furiosa and then running from the warboys, and she didn't like the sound of being trapped in that cab when Joe realize his wives were gone.

But she still wanted to help. She could provide distractions, buy time, and keep the boys off Furiosa's tail as much as possible. She would do all of this with the hopes that those brides would get to the green place Furiosa told stories of. Warbird had to admit that she liked the idea of a place like that, as much as she loved looking out at that red-orange horizon. Furiosa said there was water, a clear sky, and plants. She said that they _grew_ plants. She said that the rock and sand didn't burn your feet, and no one was scrambling for muddy water beneath the gaze of a warlord. There were no powerful men with multiple wives, and people actually grew old. There was no such thing as boys with half-lives, and no blood bags or breeders or milk mothers. It was a paradise.

Warbird looked down at Nux, still sleeping, his scarred lips parted as he snored softly. His coating of white dust and clay was wearing off here and there, revealing pale skin underneath. She carefully reached out toward him as she looked at the scars on his torso, running her fingers along the ridged design. She had been there when he received the first of them; she tried to be there for all of the ceremonies, especially that one. To her, it was one of the most important. It was a sign of maturity, a symbol of importance and achievement…but also a painful reminder. War boys wanted to fix their failing bodies, but they didn't know how. They knew how to fix cars, but not themselves. They tattooed and scarred car parts on their own skin because they understood how those worked.

They were trying to repair themselves.

Everything was so broken in the Citadel, she realized. Maybe she did need to speak with Furiosa and the wives again, if for no reason other than showing support for them. But moving was difficult enough as it was now, even with help, and that irritated her to no end. She had no idea how she was supposed to be even remotely stealthy and cross the entire Citadel from where she and the other boys stayed to where the wives were kept. But she needed to try, didn't she?

While Warbird had spoken with Furiosa, Nux had been dreaming as he napped under the hot sun. He dreamed the same dream he had the night before as he slept next to her, and fittingly, it was about Warbird herself. She came to him in flashes of images rather than anything linear; her bare skin, covered by nothing but the scars and tattoos that covered her entire body, most of which he had no idea if his brain was making up or if he had actually glimpsed them at some point; a sidelong glance, glossy feathers shimmering in her slick black Mohawk; the scent of motor oil and guzzoline, calloused hands, his fingers in her hair, and then—

He jolted awake, disoriented and suddenly overcome with a strange feeling of guilt. As he looked around wildly, his brain desperately trying to make sense of what his eyes were telling it, he saw Warbird leaning over him, her hand on his chest. She looked somewhat startled, and the two of them spent a few moments simply staring at each other.

"You okay?" she asked.

He nodded and put his head back down, rubbing his face with his hands as he tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes. What the hell was that dream for? Well, he knew what it was for, but did he really need to have it now? He knew he enjoyed her company, but his dreams needed to calm down before he got himself in trouble.

Warbird watched him for another second before looking back to the sky. "We should go back."

"Why? Things to do?" Nux asked as he sat up.

"There are always things to do. There's cars to fix, mostly, like usual, and raids…." Her nostrils flared in anger suddenly. "Not that I can do that anymore anyways."

Nux frowned and stood, leaning down and pulling her up again. "You could spend time with the pups while you heal."

"But I should be able to do what I'm supposed to!" she snapped. "I'm a war boy, and this is _my_ duty and _my_ half-life. I shouldn't be stuck sitting here like this."

"There's nothing you can do," Nux argued as they began walking inside. "You can't fight now."

He could see how frustrated she was getting. "I've always been fine in the past."

"So just wait," he said calmly. "It's only been a day since you…well."

"A day too long," she grumbled as they entered the citadel again. "I'm tired of this."

"Hurting?"

"Yes. It never stops and it never will."

"You don't know that." Nux was desperately trying to do his best, but honestly, he didn't know what to say to fix things. Her trademark anger was coming to light again, and while he had seen it, he wasn't exactly used to being so close to her when it hit. "The other boys have to stop and rest sometimes, too. It isn't only you."

"The other boys don't have broken hips!" she snarled. Her voice echoed off the rock walls, bouncing back and forth along the hall until the sharp noise startled a few pups who were lurking a ways away. To them, Warbird was usually pretty terrifying, and this was just reaffirming their suspicions on the matter.

Nux stayed quiet as he began realizing more and more that he didn't have anything to say that would actually help her. It didn't feel right to just repeat the same things over and over, things about how it'll get better and soon she won't feel as much pain. He didn't know what it was like for her, but he did know that even he was in pain a lot of the time, thanks to those lumps on his neck that seemed like they were growing bigger every day.

He didn't know what to tell her, and that felt like it was killing him even more than those bumps were.


	5. The Short One

Immortan Joe valued his imperators. He really did. It just wasn't in a way that meant he truly cared about them…but that didn't exactly bother him. He didn't lose much sleep over what happened to them, as long as he still had control. He lost sleep over a lot of other things, mostly related to his own health, but his imperators weren't exactly at the top of his list.

He had a few of them, just the select few who proved they were better than that sea of war boys. They were commanding. They did his work for him. They did more than Rictus could, with their usual positions being among the boys, rather than how he was usually with Joe. They were good drivers, good shooters, and good fighters in general. They could bring back blood bags or supplies, or even negotiate with Bullet Farm and Gas Town on his behalf when he was needed at the Citadel. The imperators were first and foremost glorified war boys, but what set them apart was their ability to think for themselves, and while useful, that also made them dangerous.

Joe kept a close eye on them…or at least, as close as he could from his usual position at the top of the Citadel. The boys rarely saw him, but the imperators spoke with him on occasion, and were thus kept on a tighter leash than the rest of the war boys. They saw more, heard more, and knew more than the rest, and that made him paranoid. He always feared that they saw too much. Heard too much.

Knew too much.

Those suspicions were a large part of why he had his son kick imperator Warbird back down the ladder she had spent her entire life climbing. She hid her intentions well, he had noticed, behind her bad attitude and chronic pain. Pain she deserved to be in now, for doing what she had done. She thought he didn't know, didn't she? She thought she could get away with it, but nothing went on in the Citadel without his knowing. There was nothing he missed, nothing he didn't see. He was utterly confident that he was completely in charge, but that confidence was only maintained by a certain level of wariness and paranoia.

When he was notified of the need for a trip to Gastown, Joe immediately ordered that Furiosa be sent. With Warbird demoted, Furiosa was the trustworthiest imperator Joe had. She didn't go behind his back to speak to his wives, poisoning their air with her imperfect body. Furiosa did what she was told, unlike Warbird, who as of late was getting on his nerves.

He was thoroughly convinced that she was up to something. He feared that she was trying to steal his wives from him, something he would never expect from a war boy, albeit an imperator. He expected challenges from People Eater, not Warbird. He didn't know why she would want to steal them—after all, she couldn't use them for breeding, could she?—but he didn't want to give her a chance to show him. He would get rid of her completely soon enough, but her death had the potential to complicate things. The boys loved her, he knew that much, and he couldn't risk any sort of uprising. He couldn't let them find out what they could do if they put their heads together to turn against him.

No, Warbird couldn't be a martyr. That would cause too much trouble. He had to wait until she did something worth killing her over, something that was more obvious than this, something that the boys could see and recognize as bad. He needed to catch her in the act, but until then, she was free to limp and crawl around the Citadel for the remainder of what he would ensure to be a short life.

Nux had spent a good portion of the day trying to keep Warbird away from cars and boys returning from raids, and he eventually succeeded in convincing her to go to the Organic Mechanic. He waited while she lay miserably on the table, listening to Mechanic telling her things that Nux didn't understand. Organic Mechanic rubbed salves on her hip while Nux watched over them, occasionally helping by holding things or grabbing things off of shelves and tables. Mostly, though, he just stood there and kept an eye on things, trying to keep up with what was being said.

There were problems with her hip, that much he knew, problems that made other problems in other parts of her. If they were talking about cars, he would have understood, probably, but the Mechanic was an expert in putting flesh together, not metal. People didn't work like cars, and Nux only understood one of those things. But he did understand that there was something very wrong that had been going wrong for a long time, and that Warbird and the Mechanic had been dealing with attempting to treat it for almost as long as it had been a problem. It's where all her creams were from, and it's where she used to go on days where it just seemed like she could hardly move at all on her own. If any of those meetings went anything like the current one was, then it was all incredibly depressing.

They spoke little, focusing on the parts that hurt and explaining why it was that they hurt like they did. When everything was finally done and all the possible questions were asked and answered, the Mechanic stood from his stool and told her that there was nothing else he could do short of carving her in half so that her hip didn't even exist. He offered to give her blood bags, but she declined them. She didn't need blood, she needed relief. She needed to be able to feel okay enough to survive in such a harsh place.

When they were finished, Nux scooped Warbird up to carry her back so that she could sleep. The sun was already going down, and she was tired enough that she didn't even protest or try to insist on walking on her own. She didn't make any sounds at all until he set her down in the same spot they had slept the night before, and her noises started off with disgruntled huffs and pained yelps as she tried to get herself into somewhat of a comfortable sleeping position.

"Want anything to eat?" Nux asked. "Better get it quick. Boys're coming back and soon there won't be anything left."

She shook her head and pulled a blanket over herself. "I just want to lay here forever."

Nux frowned and sat down next to her. "Don't you want to die historic?"

"I used to think I did."

"Used to?"

"I'm not so sure now. Organic Mechanic said I shouldn't even try driving. What good am I if I can't drive?" she asked, looking up at him with an incredibly grouchy expression.

He realized she had a point. If she couldn't drive, he didn't suppose she would be able to be a lancer or a polecat…and besides, she was an imperator. She shouldn't have to demote herself just to do her job. "You could go with Furiosa to get guzzoline."

"Why would I do that? She has her own problems to worry about. And besides, what would I even _do?_ Sit there on my ass while he does everything?"

Nux huffed a sigh and flopped down next to her. "So what do you want to do?"

"Nothing."

"You can't just do nothing. You won't dine in Valhalla."

Warbird frowned. He was right, and she hated it a little. "Maybe I don't care." She said stubbornly.

"You don't mean that."

She groaned. He was right. "I want to find a way to live in a place like this."

Nux scooted closer to her and tugged the edge of the blanket over himself, happily receiving the warmth of their combined body heat. It was a nice contrast to the cold air around them. He liked being so close to her, so he wiggled toward her a little more. She didn't react. He let his usually tense muscles relax and exhaled out his nose. Warbird stayed still and quiet, too tired for her grumpiness to win out over exhaustion.

"I know," he said quietly as her breathing became deeper. He laid his head down next to hers and inhaled the scent of motor oil in her hair. "I know."


	6. Plotting

Getting away from Nux had been harder than Warbird intitially thought it would be, but as soon as she told Slit that they should go out near Bullet Farm to do some raiding, he was in his car and out of the citadel without a second thought, leaving her to hobble around on her own. Scuttle, the war pup, tried to join her at one point, but she shouted at the others to get him some food and he was quickly distracted.

She had chosen the right day to sneak off. Everyone else was out on raids, and Joe and his sons were nowhere to be seen, leaving Warbird to drag herself through the halls. She was beginning to grow numb to the pain in her hip again, and walking was becoming slightly easier than it had been the day before. She slipped toward the vault slowly, sticking to the walls as she made her way to Joe's wives, only stepped out of the shadows when she had reached the heavy door and dragged herself inside.

The biodome surprised Warbird just as much this time as it had the last. A large part of her wished that she lived there, but the rest of her knew that she should never dream for something with such vile undertones. She also sometimes wished that she had been the one assigned to the wives instead of Furiosa, but she was content with taking care of war boys instead of breeders. She could only sit and listen to Miss Giddy for so long before the itch to blow things up returned.

Furiosa appeared to help Warbird as she entered the vault and the wives all looked up from the circle they sat in. "Thank you for coming," Furiosa whispered. "I can't do this without you."

Warbird shrugged and nodded. "You've made me start seeing a few things the way you do lately, I guess."

"Warbird, come sit here," Angharad said, moving slightly to the side and patting the ground between herself and Cheedo. "Furiosa was just starting to explain the rig."

As Warbird complied and took her spot, Furiosa picked up where she had left off before the new arrival. "It's going to be cramped, but it's extremely important that you _stay put._ If Ace sees you, everything is over."

"Ace?" Warbird frowned. "He was assigned?"

Furiosa nodded. "I had no say. If I spoke up, it would seem suspicious. I shouldn't be picky about who goes with me on routine supply runs. There's nothing I can do about it."

"Why does it matter?" Cheedo asked. "He's just a war boy."

Warbird's nostrils flared. "He's a friend."

"Why?" The Dag asked haughtily. "Cheedo's right. He's just a war boy. It's not like there's a shortage of them. They're all the same anyways."

"They are not."

"Are too."

"Well, I think all breeders are the same." Warbird snapped, anger rolling off her in waves.

"That's _enough,"_ Furiosa said sternly. "We need to focus. We can't stay here much longer and we need to get this figured out."

Warbird and The Dag both huffed. They couldn't understand each other.

"The rig holds enough water and mother's milk to last the trip, and we'll be fine on guzzoline as long as the pod is full. We're going to need food, and it's going to have to be rationed."

"We can take care of that," Toast said. "Joe keeps us fed well. He won't notice if we take more than usual."

Furiosa nodded quickly. "Good. The compartment you'll be in is too small to bring much more than yourselves. Don't try to bring anything past trinkets."

Warbird cleared her throat. "If you've got everything figured out, why do you need me here?"

"I need you to make sure the war boys don't get in the way."

"How, exactly?"

"Keep an eye on things. Don't let them get suspicious. If and when Joe decides to pursue us, stop them."

"You expect me to disobey orders?"

"I expect you to help us," Furiosa gritted her teeth. "Like you said you would."  
"And I'm going to. But I'm not going to turn on the boys."

"If the time comes-"

"It won't." she snarled. "I'll keep them away from you for as long as possible, but I'm not going to harm them myself." She turned to look at The Dag. "They're people too. They have lives that I refuse to take away."

"Half lives," The Dag muttered.

"Stop it," Furiosa snapped. "Warbird, can we trust you?"

The Dag cut in before she could answer. "I don't think so. She's one of _them."_

"But she's gone to all this trouble to be here," Capable said.

"What if she's a spy?" Toast asked quietly.

Furiosa sighed in irritation. "She isn't."

"How do you know?"

"I bet Joe sent her-"

"Dag, that's _enough._ " Angharad interrupted, her gaze harsh. "Don't you see? He's hurt her, just as much as he hurt all of us."

"You don't know that." The Dag grumbled.

Warbird's anger was swelling inside of her again. She couldn't stand all of this. "After my last visit here, Rictus Erectus took me from my room and literally threw me in with the other boys. This is the first day I've walked so far on my own since then." She glared around at all of them, The Dag in particular. "I'm living with the war boys now, just like I did when I was a pup. They've helped me by bringing me food and giving me a place to sleep."

Their expressions were all turning somber, so she decided to keep going. She wanted them to understand, to see what she had gone through for them already. She also wanted someone else to listen, and on some level, she wanted to feel validation. "So if you want me to listen and make sure they don't know anything, I'll do it. If you want me to stall them when they start to go after you, that's fine, too. I'll divert them and confuse them and do what I can, but I'm not going to purposely hurt them in any way."

"But Rictus hurt you," Capable said, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Isn't he a war boy?"

"He's our superior," Furiosa explained. "He carries out direct orders from Joe. Past that, he doesn't do much."

"How did he hurt you so badly?" Cheedo asked. "Do you need anything? We have some books on medicine…"

Warbird's anger was starting to subside again. "Bad hip. My mother…when I was living among the Wretched, she beat me if I didn't fetch enough water. She kicked me until I couldn't feel my leg anymore. It never healed." She looked at Cheedo, who was starting to stand to find the books. "It's fine. Organic Mechanic gives me goo to help, but the pain never goes away. When Rictus threw me out of my room, he carried me and dropped me on the stone, and I landed on that side. I have no sympathy for him or his father."

The five wives all nodded slowly, finally in agreement again on whether or not she was trustworthy. The Dag offered her a small apologetic look.

"There." Furiosa said, eager to get back on track. She knew they didn't have much time to spend dawdling in the vault. "That's finished. Let me show you the route we're taking."

They spent the next hour going over the plan, after which Warbird limped out of the vault alone, Furiosa staying behind to leave on her own to minimize any suspicion on the two of them leaving the same part of the Citadel together. Warbird was grateful for such a relatively small role in their escape, and she hoped that everything could go smoothly and the Citadel would be back to semi-normal quickly so that she could fight to have her bed back again. Sleeping on the floor with the boys was killing her back and hips, and she really didn't need the added complications while she healed as much as she could.

What she did need, though, was a nap, and lacking the energy to go outside, she settled for the garage. She got as comfy as she could on top of a scrapped VW and had just closed her eyes when she heard the familiar rumbling of engines and a party of war boys roaring in, towing a rather nice looking car along with them.

"Warbird!" Morsov shouted, running toward her. "Look at it! See it?"

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Whose is it?"

"Slit's now, once it's fixed. Came with a blood bag we just brought in. He's absolutely wild, too. Mad. Whoever gets his blood is a lucky bastard."

"I bet," Warbird said absentmindedly. "Did you find anything else good?"

"Some supplies from an abandoned rust bucket. Oh, almost forgot…" he fished around in his pocket and pulled out a small bird skull. "Found this today." He held it out to her and she took it, running her thumb over the sharp beak.

"Thank you," she said. "Where was it?"

"Some dried up bushes by a few rocks. Nothing exciting. Figured it's a crow that got lost or something." He shrugged and turned to leave. "By the way, Nux wanted me to tell you he won't be back tonight."

"What? Why?" she was surprised by the small panicky feeling growing in her chest.

"Him'n Slit are staying in Bullet Farm. They'll be back sometime tomorrow. If you need help with anything, let me know and I'll be there as fast as I can."

With that, ironically enough, he left her alone with the skull. "So much for helping," she mumbled as she careful put the ex-bird in her pocket. She wished she had a better place to keep it, but she knew she couldn't go back to her old room without Rictus somehow sensing it and coming to hurt her again. She had so many things left in that room that he had probably gone through and broken by now.

She heard a small shuffling noise and looked down to see Scuttle standing there, staring up at her with those wide eyes. "Why'd he give you a present?" he asked in his tiny voice.

Warbird smiled a little and patted the spot on the car next to her. "The boys like bringing me presents," she said as he climbed up to sit. "And I like getting them."

"How do they know what to give you?"

"I figure they just grab whatever little things they see and can fit in their pockets."

"Wow," Scuttle breathed.

Warbird's smile widened. He was so fascinated by something so simple.

"Can I bring you a present?"

"I suppose if you find something you can, but you don't have to. I've got more than enough things to be happy." She found herself debating those words as she said them. She definitely enjoyed receiving gifts. She liked hoarding her trinkets and skulls and rocks.

"I want to," he said, nodding eagerly.

"Then I won't stop you."

They were quiet for a bit, watching boys run back and forth with tools as they worked on the cars. A few of them had started trying to make modifications to the new car, and at one point, they called Warbird over to take a look at it.

"What d'you think?" a polecat named Dent asked. "Gotta work on the wells if we're putting on better tires, don't you think?"

She nodded, doing her best to walk around and survey the car while she held Scuttle's hand and he went with her, wincing at the sparks flying as the boys worked. "What the hell did you do to this? It's going to take hours to bash back into shape."

Dent grinned. "Guess it went for a little roll. Think we should add another supercharger?"

"Stacked, yeah," she answered, doing her best to peer at the car's undercarriage. "Not really in bad shape, though. It was the blood bag's?"

A repair boy shoved his welding mask up. "That's what they said. Must've been somebody important to get this kinda car."

"Too bad Slit's taking it," Dent mumbled. "I would've taken it in a second."

"And stopped being a polecat?" Warbird asked as she continued walking. "Are you even a good driver?"

"I am!" he huffed.

She snorted in amusement and stopped to look inside the car. "Looks like he was living out of it. Or at least I would've if I was him."

"I'd live anywhere if I could have this car," Dent said, stopping next to her. "I'd name it something good, too. Something better than whatever Slit's going to come up with."

"If you say so."

"I would!"

"You can prove it when you get your own car."

He grumbled a few choice words that Scuttle probably shouldn't have heard and skulked off to grab some bolt cutters, mumbling the entire way as he went. Warbird looked over the car one last time and nodded in approval before deciding it was about time to be getting Scuttle to sleep. She hadn't played den mother in a while, and part of her was very content to be taking care of another pup.

"Your clay is wearing off," she commented as she limped to the sleeping room.

He scowled. "So's yours!"

"That's because I don't wear as much as you're supposed to," she led him over to the large basin in the corner where they always kept a small amount of clay. The big clay pit was outside, of course, but the boys liked to keep some nearby, just in case. She leaned on the basin's side and scooped some of the soft white clay out, working it in her hands for a moment before she attacked Scuttle with it, rubbing it all over his torso despite his protests.

"Why don't you wear it?"

"I do, just not very much. I'm allowed to wear less because I'm an imperator." She paused to wonder about that. No one had told her that she wasn't anymore, but then again she hadn't exactly seen anyone who ranked much higher than her. "You, however, need to be covered head to toe so that you have a better chance."

"At what?"

"Going to a good job. You have to look your best."

"You're lying," he accused.

"I am not," she said, faking astonishment at the idea. She was definitely lying, but he didn't need to know that. "I'm completely serious."

Her lie worked and he sat much stiller for her until he was blindingly white again and she let him go, wiping the remaining clay on her own face to get rid of it. "All right, time for bed."

"What? No!" he whined as she stood up straight again and started limping away to where her blankets were waiting. "It isn't even dark out I bet!"

"You don't know that," she said as she laid down clumsily.

"But I bet it is!"

"Then why don't you go check?" she said tiredly, already feeling sleep in her head.

She heard him make a little huff before running off, and the next thing she knew, she was dozing off and was eventually trapped in a heavy slumber, despite the hard ground and cold air.


	7. Nightly Talks

Bullet Farm always made Nux feel uneasy. Yeah, he liked looking at all the guns for sale, but he had seen a few too many people shot there to feel at all relaxed amongst the bandits and gangs that milled around. Bullet Farmer was supposed to only supply Immortan Joe with guns and bullets, but everybody knew how unlikely it was that he stayed truthful to their deal.

Even as he and Slit settled down for the night in the car, Nux couldn't shake the paranoia overtaking him. It wasn't usually this bad, as shady as Bullet Farm was, and normally he could sleep fairly well, but tonight was turning out to be a different story.

"Would you just go to sleep?" Slit hissed as Nux tossed and turned.

"I can't. Something doesn't feel right."

Slit made a loud noise of displeasure.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Nux asked, irritation lining his voice.

"You've got the hots for her, don't you?"

"For who?" Nux asked, hoping Slit wouldn't say the name that had popped into his own head immediately.

"Warbird," Slit said, drawing out the name teasingly.

"No!" Nux snapped a little too quickly. "She's—she's just a friend, or…imperator, I'm just helping her out some!"

Slit grinned that lizard grin. "Yeah, okay. Don't lie, you've been thinking about her."

Nux shifted uncomfortably under the coat he was using as a blanket now. "I don't know…"

"You don't know?" Slit raised an eyebrow. "I think you know. You wanna pash her."

"No!" Nux felt his face heating up at the thought of his scarred lips on hers.

"But you wouldn't stop it if it happened."

"Well, would you?"

Slit paused for a moment. "No, probably not."

"Why?"

"She's a looker. I know you've noticed."

Nux definitely had. "It doesn't matter anyway. She's got other things to worry about."

"Doesn't mean she's not up for a snog. Probably as far as you'd get, with her hip and all."

Nux sighed dejectedly. "Probably."

"Ha!" Slit's grin widened. "I knew it!"

"I didn't mean it like that!" Nux said quickly. "I just meant that you're not wrong!"

"I'm never wrong. You're into her."

"So what if I was? What do you say I do about it?"

Slit shrugged. "Go for it." His grin returned. "Bet you'd have a real good time. Bet she looks real nice under her clothes."

Nux bet she did. "What d'you think her tattoos are like?"

"Probably nice. She probably has a lot. Don't think I've ever seen them, though, which is a shame."

Nux looked at him. "What makes you think she'd let you?"

"We talked about it." Slit sat back with a smug look on his face.

"What? When?"

"Couple days ago. You weren't around." He shrugged. "Wasn't much, really. She doesn't wanna do a lot of shit 'cause, you know, her hip. Tough for you I guess."

"Shut up. She's an imperator anyways. I'm just a warboy."

Slit rolled his eyes. "You've spent every minute with her. You probably miss her right now."

He was right. Nux was missing Warbird. He was missing her a lot. "Do you think she's doing okay?"

"Have you ever even seen her? She's probably thrown somebody off the Citadel by now." Slit rolled over. "Now shut up and sleep. She's fine."

Nux made a noise of agreement and tried to settle himself again, but the second he closed his eyes, his mind started racing. Was she actually okay? Was Rictus leaving her alone still, or had he done something else to her? He didn't want to think about that. Rictus was massive, and Warbird…well, her ego was bigger than she was. He could snap her in half without even breaking a sweat, and he probably wouldn't feel bad afterwards.

What if she had managed to get herself hurt in some other way? She could pretty easily fall down a hole or off a cliff, or get hit by a wrench or a car, or caught on fire, or any number of other things that could potentially end her.

Wait, why did he care so much? He had watched plenty of warboys split their faces open, and he had laughed at them with the others. Hell, he had watched when Slit got the scars that gave him his name, and he was less than concerned. Of course, Slit was…well, kind of a schlanger. He liked to call people mediocre, and he always wanted to be closer to Joe. Nux had been surprised when Slit initially started helping him with Warbird, but that was probably because he wanted to be in good favor with an imperator, even if she was most likely going to lose her ranking.

But even watching Slit, his best friend, bleed out from his face all over himself and the sand, had never concerned Nux. Slit had probably been having fun anyways, and he was fine in the end, so what was the point in worrying? People got hurt and walked away from it all the time, including Warbird…right? She could take care of herself. She had made it this far in life.

Why was he so worried about her? With each passing hour he was growing more and more agitated with the fact that he wasn't there to make sure she was okay. He had never felt that way about anyone before, and suddenly here the feeling was, staring right at him. He guessed he had always sort of felt that way towards her, but he had never noticed it until now; he had spent too much time being afraid of stepping on toes, and even though she had been there for every one of his major ceremonies, she had always seemed a bit distant. She was the imperator who stayed closest to the other boys, but she had still always been a little more isolated. She had had her own room, her own car, her own things to do…he had never had much of a chance to spend time with her.

He still remembered the first time he saw her, though. They were both still kids; she was a young warboy, and he had just enlisted from the work force, separated by a few years of experience. She had limped back then, but not nearly as much as now, and he could remember her getting into scraps with the others. She always won. He could remember the day he watched Immortan Joe name her as an imperator alongside Furiosa, and put her in charge of the warboys while Furiosa was to guard his wives. Nux had been there, along with everybody else, sitting in the back and craning his neck to get a look as Warbird demanded to be tattooed. Furiosa also received one, but she had been much less enthusiastic. After that, Warbird stopped shaving her head completely bald and began wearing less and less white clay. She smeared grease and oil over her face and hair and left it at that.

But on that day that she became imperator, he found himself paying special attention to her. He had just finally become a driver, and had been spending most of his time outside trying to gain Immortan Joe's favor, just like Slit did. He only stuck around inside to work on his car and watch ceremonies, and he had never really spoken to her. They were aware of each other, but she only barely seemed to acknowledge him. She stuck around Furiosa and the older warboys and even sometimes the pups that flocked to her for protection. She always did a good job of settling the fights they got themselves into, too, and it seemed like even though she was utterly ruthless when she felt up to it, she was fiercely protective of those she wanted to care for. After a while of watching that, Nux had wished that she would feel that way about him, too.

Maybe it was because he had been around the other boys his entire life after being pulled up from the wretched, but he had developed a few small fantasies with her at the center around the time he really started growing up. The older boys were lewd, and although Warbird punished them heavily if they went too far, they would make comments that were less than savory, and it seemed like they rubbed off on Nux for a while. He joined in sometimes because that's what seemed right at the time. It helped that he occasionally heard her laughing along with the others when they mentioned her tits.

They really didn't talk much, and without any real contact with her, Nux's fantasies began waning and he focused more and more on being a real warboy. He brought in blood bag after blood bag, countless supplies, new cars, food, bullets, guzzoline…he did everything that he could, and he did it perfectly. After all, Slit wouldn't let him do anything mediocre. He didn't have time to spend lusting after her when she clearly wasn't interested in even talking to him, and he didn't really mind it. Nothing had ever had a chance to blossom, so he never lost anything. He did get jealous seeing the others bringing her gifts, though, so one day when they were out terrorizing marauders, he found stray crow feathers and knew he had to take them to her, and when he got to proudly present them and she thanked him, his attraction to her was rekindled. He hadn't recognized it at first, but it was there, and the closer they became, both physically and emotionally, the stronger they grew.

And now here he was, sitting in his pursuit vehicle, practically pining over her. He wished she were in the car with him instead of Slit, who snored horrendously when he had to sleep sitting up in the passenger seat. Nux wanted it to be Warbird, and he wanted the two of them to sleep side by side, or on top of each other, or tangled up in a mass of tired limbs and blankets. He wanted the warmth and the comfort and the unique companionship. He wanted the way her hair smelled and that sleepy look in her eyes that only ever lasted a second when she woke up before her gaze became as burning as the fury road.

He just wanted her.

Nux pulled his coat closer and sighed. Slit's snoring had begun, and Nux was no closer to sleep than he had been when he started all of this thinking. Maybe that pup was with Warbird right now, doing something at least semi useful. Maybe she was using him as a pillow, or maybe he had spent the night fetching her whatever she asked for. Who was she sleeping next to? Morsov? Ace? The thought made him jealous. Why should _they_ get to be close to her when he was stuck here with Slit? He should be there, making sure that she was comfortable. He should be taking care of her. She was protective, but he wanted to protect _her._

He really hadn't intended to be gone for this long, but the Bullet Farmer was being difficult when they tried to negotiate, and he had dawdled for so long that they decided to spend the night there rather than making the drive back. Nux had barely seen Warbird at all before they left, and he was regretting it now. She had told him to go out and find something to do and he had complied, expecting to be gone on a short raid or fight, but the plan had changed, and now he just wanted to reassure himself that she was still okay. Part of him refused to believe it until he saw for himself that she was in one piece.

"The faster you sleep the faster you'll see her," he mumbled to himself. Maybe if he said it enough, his brain would be convinced, and he would be able to just nod off, at least for a few hours so that they could pass by without him even noticing. Maybe if he just tried hard enough. Maybe….


	8. One Day More

Nux practically flew back to the Citadel. He left Slit in charge of unloading everything, and he was perfectly happy to do so and take as much credit as he could, even though he was Nux's lancer and not a driver. While Slit managed that, Nux ran, desperately trying to find Warbird. The drive back had been nerve wracking for him, and with every bump they hit, his worrying increased. He really wasn't cut out for this sort of thing.

He finally found her sitting with Ace and Scuttle, talking about something to do with the war rig. She smiled when Nux stopped in front of them, and he took that as a good sign that maybe she had missed him a little bit, too.

"How you doing, mate?" Ace asked, saluting him and clapping him on the back.

Nux returned the salute. "Bullets. Lots of 'em."

"At the rate you're going, you'll be sent out again tomorrow once your pursuer's in top shape." Ace said.

"Sure hope," Nux grinned. He had to admit, he really had enjoyed at least part of his driving, but he had only lasted so long before anxiety won out over enjoyment.

An awkward silence began, and after a few tense moments, Warbird cleared her throat. Ace took the hint and left, saying he had to go meet with Furiosa. At the mention of her name, Warbird seemed uncomfortable, but only for a second, and Nux decided it was probably nothing. She was probably just uncomfortable over all.

He stepped up closer to her now that Ace was gone. She was leaning on Scuttle already, so he couldn't try to support her. Damn. "Are you okay?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I—I dunno," he looked at her with huge eyes. "I got worried."

"Why?" she sounded irritated, probably because she was. "What could I possibly get into?"

"A lot!"

"Nux, I'm fine. Really. The most eventful thing I did was give Scuttle here a clay bath. I can take care of myself."

Nux felt himself relax a little. "You're right. Let's find somewhere to sit."

"I want to go outside."

"Then let's go." He smiled nervously at her and offered his arm. They started making there way out and Scuttle hurried after them, grabbing on to Warbird's free hand.

Nux huffed at first. War pups were always underfoot. Yeah, they were important and everybody wanted to take care of them at least a little, but they were still just annoying little brothers who got into things and messed them up. They were always underfoot, and they dropped things a lot. It really seemed like Warbird liked Scuttle, though, so Nux wasn't going to argue, at least for now. He liked it when she was happy, and if the little rodent brought her joy, then he would just have to deal with that.

"So what's Furiosa doing?" Nux asked as they sat down. The sun was so hot, but at least up in the air there was a breeze.

Warbird stiffened. What did he know? Why was he asking? It didn't concern him. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, Ace said he had to see her. Are they going on a run?"

Warbird was doing everything she could to stay emotionless. "Just supplies."

"So she's taking the rig?"

Scuttle perked up. "The war rig?"

Nux raised his lip in a grin and Warbird let out a tiny sigh of relief. She really wasn't a great liar, no matter what she tried.

"Furiosa always takes the rig," Nux said to Scuttle with an air of irritation and snootiness.

"Nux, shut up." Warbird snapped. She looked down at Scuttle. "Grow up to be a nice war boy, if you can. Please."

Scuttle just looked up at her and blinked, as usual. It seemed like it was his specialty. He was usually quiet, and she always figured it was because he was so little. Even the other pups were significantly bigger than he was. He was just the runt of the litter, apparently.

"Where'd you come from, anyway?" Nux asked.

"M-me?" Scuttle squeaked. He wasn't really used to being directly addressed like this yet, and he was still trying to accept the idea of his new life.

"Yeah, you."

"Me and mama lived here, and she made them take me." He paused. "She put me with them and then she went away…"

"Life is better up here," Warbird said as she looked out over the wasteland. "We've got what we need. They've got nothing."

"Joe gives them what need," Nux protested. "He gives them water and we protect them!"

"I guess so, yeah." Warbird bit her tongue before she said anything to infuriate him. "Pups are better off, though. Better than starving down there."

"We've got everything we need." Nux said confidently. "We got food, mother's milk, cars, Joe…V8…."

Warbird just gave a half-nod. She was still struggling with her beliefs when it came to Immortan Joe, and she was beginning to blame Furiosa for it. Things were easier when she was just like the other boys and could blindly follow without questioning his leadership, but that was seeming impossible now, and she felt like she had no choice but to keep thinking about it. Whenever her thoughts started to wander, they headed towards Joe and his godly status.

"What's the Bullet Farmer?" Scuttle asked suddenly. He reached up to put his fingers in his mouth, reminding Warbird just how little he really was. The pup stopped when he realized that he was still covered in clay and dust and Nux wrinkled his nose at him.

"Don't do that," he mumbled. "Hands aren't for mouths, they're for cars."

"Furiosa only has one hand," the child said. "And she has cars."

"She has the rig, and no, she has two hands. One is just better than the other."

"Why?"

"Because it's like a machine. That makes her more like V8 than the rest of us. Get it?"

Warbird snorted as Scuttle nodded quickly, reached for his mouth again, and then caught himself once more.

"But what's Bullet Farmer?" he asked insistently.

"He makes guns." Warbird answered simply.

Nux leaned toward Scuttle. "He's got bullets for teeth," he said, eyes wide, trying to scare the pup.

It worked, Scuttle's expression mimicking the war boy's. "Nuh uh!"

"Yes huh."

"No!"

"I promise he does. I saw it."

"What's it like?" he asked excitedly.

Nux went on to describe the Bullet Farmer and his guns, and then when Scuttle asked, he told him about the People Eater of Gastown and his tendency to devour his wives when they failed to give him healthy children, which, unfortunately, was often. Scuttle was such a tiny rookie that Nux had to explain almost everything to him—what flamers were, why polecats were brave, and how he planned on getting to Valhalla—and by the time they were done, the sun was starting to hang low in the sky. Nux stood and pulled Warbird with him and Scuttle hopped up, running ahead of them when he realized that there would be some food scraps waiting for him if he got back soon.

Warbird sat on a car and grimaced as she realized just how much time she spent sitting down. There wasn't much she could, and she knew that, but that didn't make her stop hating it any less. All she did now was sit and watch and think, and the only thing to think about right now was what Furiosa was planning on pulling off. Just one more night and they would be gone, and Warbird still had to figure out how exactly she was going to distract the boys long enough to give them a head start should they need one.

Keeping them all in one place was difficult, and she was afraid that maybe she wouldn't be that much help after all. What could she do? Blow something up? That was always a viable option, with so many cars around…but it was wasteful. Maybe she could set that rabid blood bag free and see what kind of damage he could do…no, that was a bad idea, wasn't it? Yes, it was. She was beginning to accept that she may need to make something up on the spot, and that wasn't a very appealing idea. Maybe if she was lucky someone else would end up doing it for her somehow. After all, warboys caused distractions on their own all the time.

"Slit wants to go out again tomorrow," Nux said as he approached her with food, a very grumbly Slit trailing behind him.

"We need to be on the fury road," he hissed. "I want to be noticed. I want to be witnessed! How the fuck am I supposed to be awaited if we only go out once every six days?"

"Fine," Warbird said. She felt her pulse speed up slightly. What if they weren't back by the time Furiosa left and they met her out there when she veered off course with the wives? "Go ahead. Why are you coming to me?"

Nux seemed stumped by that question. "Because I wanted to tell you?"

"Fine with me. What are you planning on doing?"

"Anything. Everything!" Slit rasped.

"That's a lot of things to do."

"We just have to GO!" He yelled.

That was enough for Warbird. If she told them they couldn't go, they would question it. "When?"

"Early," Nux shrugged.

"Early enough to have time to be witnessed!" Slit said as he moved to leave.

Warbird smiled a tiny bit at his eagerness. "Bring back something for me."

"We will, imperator." He called over his shoulder. "Come on, pup. You're helping me with the car."

Scuttle followed after him eagerly, and once they were out of earshot, Nux turned to Warbird. "Are you worried?"

"No." She said defensively. "I'm fine."

"…Is something bothering you?"

"Nope."

"You can tell me, you know."

Part of her really wanted to tell him, just to keep him safe, if nothing else. She knew that if he got in the way, Furiosa wouldn't hesitate when it came to pulling the trigger on him. Warbird knew that she couldn't tell him, though. He was loyal, to Joe and to the other boys. He was more loyal than she had ever been. It was something that she loved about him, but she was certain that if she told him anything about what was going to happen, he would stop her and go straight to Immortan Joe, and then…well, everything would be ruined.

She swallowed back a few words. She was beginning to realize just how serious this was. It wasn't just taking some girls on a trip to the Bullet Farm; she was literally helping Furiosa steal Joe's most prized possessions. The thought made her wrinkle her nose. She understood the importance of healthy babies…she guessed she did, at least. She hadn't met anyone other than the wives that was completely healthy, so maybe they were pretty special after all.

It was easy to brush it off, too. Everyone treated breeders the same, because to most people, that's all they were. There wasn't much time, nor were there the resources to go around, to really discuss whether it was right or wrong to own people. Warbird had heard that back before the wars, it was even _illegal_ to own somebody else, whether for breeding or just as a slave. You would actually be punished for it. She couldn't really imagine that; after all, people owned people all the time now. It was the norm. But when she thought about it, she realized that she was pretty happy not being owned, especially not for breeding. Thinking about it made her shiver, and it was realizations like this that made her help Furiosa. She wouldn't want to have been one of them. She knew that the reason she wasn't was that she was imperfect, battered and beaten and not at all soft and beautiful like Splendid or The Dag, and she knew that she always wished she was like them, at least a little, but it wasn't worth it. For once, she was glad that she was like this. She could do what she wanted. It was unfair, but it was preferable to what they endured day in and day out.

She looked at Nux. "There isn't anything bothering me."

He looked down at her with narrowed eyes.

"I'm fine. I promise."


	9. And So It Begins

"Today we're headed to Gas Town!"

"Gas town!"

"Today we're haulin' aqua cola!"

"Aqua cola!"

"And today we carry Mother's Milk!"

"Mother's Milk!"

"Joe! Joe! Joe! Joe!" the call and response faded to chants as the war boys hooked up the rig. The sun was hot, and below the Citadel, the wretched all stood watching, waiting, as Joe appeared. To them, he was a distant, pale white figure in the sky, practically a god who supplied them with water. When they looked up at the towering rocks of the Citadel, they saw salvation and everything they needed to survive. But what Warbird saw was entirely different.

She still hadn't come up with a good plan when Rictus appeared before her earlier that day and demanded she go with him to where Joe and Corpus sat and kept watch over the Citadel. Rictus dragged her to them held her still until his brother glanced back at them.

"Shove off, Rictus. She ain't going nowhere, same as me."

He gave a loud grunt and loosened his grip slightly. "She stays."

"She will, oaf!"

"Quiet!" Joe snarled as his respirator was hooked on. He approached the edge of the cavern and rested his hands on the levers that controlled the water and, by extension, everyone in the Citadel.

"Give it up! For the Immortan! JOE!"

The Wretched grew quiet when he appeared, knowing what was coming and watching in awe as he began to address them.

"Once again, we send off my war rig to bring back guzzoline from Gas Town and bullets from the Bullet Farm!"

Warbird looked down. She was really beginning to wish she had been given a chance to see Nux before this, because now, what with her being forced to stay right next to Joe and his sons, she was starting to doubt that she would live to see the next day.

"Once again, I salute my Imperator Furiosa, and I salute my half life war boys who will ride with me, eternal, on the highways of Valhalla."

"V8! V8! V8!" the boys chanted in the distance.

"I AM YOUR REDEEMER!" Joe bellowed. "It is by MY hand you will rise from the ashes of this world!"

The Wretched waited impatiently, eagerly watching for a sign that he was about to pull the switches. When he finally did, they all ran forward, just as desperate as Warbird remembered when she was down there.

"Do not, my friends, become addicted to water." Joe shouted over their clamoring. "It will take hold of you…and you will resent its absence"

They didn't listen. Why would they? Water was all they had. The water rations were the only reason they were there in the relative safety of Joe's kingdom, and it was their only hope. They didn't even pay attention as Furiosa left, but then again, there was no real reason for them to care. They cheered whenever anything important happened, because they knew they should, and because they knew it meant water would be coming soon. They all believed Joe's stories of Valhalla, but they knew they wouldn't be going there unless they were on the Fury Road, which they never were. They just knew that they needed water, and they needed Joe's protection.

Warbird watched the rig leave and felt her heart rate speed up slightly. Corpus would be watching, and she needed to be gone by the time he noticed Furiosa go off road.

She cleared her throat. "I've got boys to attend to and cars to work on."

Joe whipped around and Rictus tightened his grip on her arm. The Immortan just watched her for a moment, his eyes narrowed over his mask. "You will stay here if you want your own sleeping place."

She scoffed quietly. "I don't think-"

" _Excuse me?"_ he snarled, rushing toward her. She cringed back slightly, and she would have gone further if Rictus weren't holding her so tightly.

Joe leaned in close and she found herself staring him straight in the eyes. "I make the decisions," he hissed in a deeply threatening voice. "And I have decided that you will stay here."

"I-I need to go see Organic Mechanic!" she stammered as he whirled back around to inspect the mother's milk that was being produced. She pulled against Rictus's grip, straining as she lost her balance. He yanked her back up against him and held both her arms, his grip stronger than ever. It felt like he was going to break her bones, and he kept tightening his fingers until it elicited a shout of pain.

"RICTUS!" Joe roared at his son. "Stop-"

"Hey pa!" Corpus interrupted from his swing. "You know about this?"

"What?" the Immortan moved to stand next to him.

"Your produce ain't going to Gas Town." He moved to let his father look through his telescope. "She's gone off road. Into hostile territory."

Warbird swallowed hard. This was bad. She hadn't expected him to spot her this quickly…then again, she hadn't expected her to be moving this quickly with the rig.

"Why would she do that?" he asked himself. Then he turned and ran, grabbing Warbird from Rictus as he did so. "You're coming with me."

"Let me GO!" she screeched, dragging her heels and pulling against his grip. He began running and didn't slow down when she lost her footing and couldn't keep up, instead charging on as if she wasn't even there.

She was really starting to get tired of this sort of thing.

"I don't know what you think you're going to-"

"SHUT UP!" he screeched to a halt outside the vault door and she was allowed to collapse on the ground for a moment before he grabbed her again and pulled her inside. "Splendid?"

As he slowed again, Warbird finally had a chance to look around. The wives had not been subtle about how they felt. The walls and floor were covered in writing, and while she couldn't entirely read it, she knew it meant something important.

"Angharad?" Joe called. "Where are they?" he said to himself again, mostly in thought. He spotted Miss Giddy standing near their beds and ran toward her, letting Warbird go for the moment.

She collapsed on the floor, her hip feeling like it was on fire and her entire body filled with shooting pain. She wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, and she knew it, but she still rolled onto her stomach and began trying to drag herself away, breathing hard as she strained.

"They are not your property!" the old woman said, holding a gun up to Joe as Warbird clawed against the floor.

"MISS GIDDY!"

"You cannot own a human being. Sooner or later, someone pushes back!"

"WHERE IS SHE TAKING THEM?!"

"She didn't take them, they begged her to go!" she pulled the trigger as Joe reached her but judging by the lack of scream, Warbird assumed the shot hit anywhere but where it was intended.

"Where is she taking them?!"

"A long way from YOU!"

He yelled in frustration just as a pair of boots appeared in front of Warbird. Rictus grabbed her by the back of her shirt and pulled her up rather gently considering his strength, watching his father curiously.

"R-Rictus," she panted, her breaths sharp and painful. "Please-"

"Shh!" he said roughly.

"READY MY WAR BOYS!" Joe shouted as he rushed out. "ALL OF THEM!"

"This one too?"

He paused and looked over his shoulder. "She's coming with us."


	10. The Storm

She was stuffed in Joe's car, sitting in the back against her will, her hands tied behind her and Joe's personal guardians sitting on either side. Miss Giddy was in front of her, refusing to speak, and Rictus was riding outside. The drums were pounding, Doof was wailing, there were cars and fire everywhere—but Warbird was more terrified than she ever thought she would be on the Fury Road. It was where she always wished she could be and always tried to go, but half the time, she couldn't move enough to drive. Now she was there, but never how she wanted to be.

They were surrounded by her friends—her family—and she was straining to see them through the window. "Don't even try," the guardian next to her growled.

"I'm just looking," she snapped. She leaned over him and he made a noise of surprise, grabbing her around the middle and trying to pull her back to her seat.

"NO!" she screamed at him as she strained to look.

"Keep her quiet!" Joe snarled as he drove.

"I'm trying!" Gunk yelled, wrestling with her.

Everything hurt, but she was past caring, and when a car came into view right next to them, she realized that it was worth it. There was a blood bag strapped to the front, the one with the muzzle, and a chain with a line running back to the driver. He turned to look at them, trying to catch Joe's attention, and she screamed at him.

"NUX!"

He didn't hear her, or he was too excited when Joe turned his head slightly to glance at them. "He looked at me!" she heard him shout.

"He was looking at your blood bag!" Slit yelled from the back of their car.

"SLIT!" Warbird screamed, still struggling with Gunk. She smashed her head against the window, mostly on accident, but she was glad that she had cracked the glass when the lancer turned to look at her, a very confused look on his scarred face.

"What…? Hey!" he banged on the roof of the car. "It's—"

If he had said her name, Warbird didn't hear it as Nux gunned it and they sped forward. She jumped back across Gunk in the opposite direction now, straining to reach the front of the cab to see ahead of them. There were buzzards on the rig, lancers and drivers catching up quickly, Nux and Slit at their head.

Gunk grabbed Warbird again and pulled her back. "You need to sit!"

She finally stopped struggling, her breathing heavier than ever. Now that she was sitting still, she could feel all of the pain rushing back, and now she could feel it in her skull.

"You're bleeding, you fucking idiot!" Gunk snapped.

"So what?" she started getting ready to spit at him but choked halfway through. She was gasping too hard to even manage to insult someone.

"Just stop." He said, his voice full of irritation.

"Shut up!" Joe shouted from the driver's seat. "Both of you!"

Warbird scowled and Gunk rolled his eyes at her.

"What do you care if I'm bleeding?" she grumbled.

He looked at her. "What do you care if Nux and Slit are out there?"

"I…don't." she lied.

"Then I don't care about you either."

She hadn't seen Gunk in a long time. Ever since he started guarding Joe and Corpus, he didn't spend much time with the others. He was different, like the elevator guardians were. They didn't go out driving as much, but while they were just as skilled as the other boys, they weren't treated quite the same way. Their job descriptions were different, and that made them stay somewhat separated.

They were both silent for a while. Joe didn't seem very eager to catch up and get involved in what was happening with the rig—not that his car was even as fast as the smaller ones anyway—and all they could do was watch from a distance. Warbird's vision was beginning to blur, but she thought she could make out the dark blob that was Nux's car as it reached the buzzards attacking Furiosa.

"I—can't-" her chest was heaving as she began slumping down. The pounding in her head was getting worse, but through it, she could just barely feel what seemed like blood running down her face.

Gunk made a frustrated sound. "This is what happens when you don't listen."

The car was a blur as she began dipping in and out of consciousness. She occasionally recognized the touch of a rag against her head, but as soon as she figured out what it was, she passed out again. When her eyes were open, the world spun, and when they were closed, there was absolutely nothing. She had no idea how much time was passing or what was even happening around her. She had no way of telling how the rig was doing or if they were even fighting right now, but by the time she could finally feel Gunk slapping the side of her face, what she saw before her was much worse than whatever had been going on with the buzzards and the rig.

"Y-you have to stop," she said groggily, trying to sit up slightly more. "The storm…sh-she won't—"

"Hush." Gunk said simply.

And then, suddenly, it was dark. Light flashed to the side. Wind whipped against the car, pushing and pulling it back and forth jerkily. Sand flew through the windows and it stung, bringing tears to her eyes even as she and Gunk ducked down and flattened themselves against the seats. Warbird had no idea how long they were in the storm, but judging by the metallic screechings and how many war boy screams she heard, it was a while. The lightning struck all around them, and the wind was so strong at points that she was afraid the car was going to flip.

Joe was an idiot for doing this. He had seen how massive the cloud was. Why did he care this much? Because of Splendid's pregnancy? The baby probably wasn't perfect anyways. No babies were perfect. Even if they looked like they were, there was always something inside or something that came along later, and that was just how things were. Warbird had known he would do a lot to get his breeders back, and she had known Furiosa would go through the storm without a second thought, but she had really hoped that Joe would give up before they reached it. They must have been losing war boys left and right in the wind, and that wasn't exactly something that was unforeseen. Storms like these were massive and destructive forces, and Joe knew that not everyone was going to make it through.

She was starting to realize more and more that Immortan Joe was a huge asshole.

When the wind finally stopped after what felt like hours, Warbird finally started trying to push herself up into a sitting position. Everything was covered in sand, and by the sound of things—or lack of sound—the engines were included. Furiosa was somewhere up ahead in the distance, hopefully making a comforting amount of headway while Joe's army was stuck trying to regroup and recover.

Joe himself was irritated beyond compare. "Get out." He hissed roughly. Gunk began moving immediately, throwing the door open and dragging Warbird with him. The way down from the Gigahorse was long, but unlike what Rictus probably would have done, Gunk was thoughtful enough to not just drop Warbird during the jump, and she only landed slightly painfully with him.

Speaking of the wasteland prince, Rictus had already hopped down and was standing extremely still, watching something on the horizon. Gunk went to stand next to him, letting Warbird go once he decided she couldn't get very far on her own. He was right, and she didn't have the energy nor motivation to even stray from their current position, so she stuck where she was and turned to squint at the dark shapes coming toward them. They looked like cars, but that would mean….

"People Eater?" Rictus asked suddenly.

"Probably," Gunk answered. "Comin' to help."

Warbird wrinkled her nose. People Eater. He was shrewd, more disgusting than the other leaders, and constantly looking for business opportunities. She had never liked him, and she never would. There had only been a handful of times that she had had run ins with him, and she tried to avoid him at all costs, and for good reason; hell, she could still remember the first time she had the misfortune of meeting him. It had been a long time ago, when she was first named Imperator. She had been standing next to Corpus, Rictus lurking near them. War pups were smearing black grease across her eyes and in her hair. She had worn it proudly then, and much more often than she did now. It had been new and special. _She_ had been new and special.

Joe made a loud "Ahhh!" sound as People Eater appeared, his arms spread open for the mayor of Gas Town. They were supposed to be meeting to speak about trades, for guzzoline and the fresh produce from the Citadel's irrigation chambers. People Eater grunted in reply to Joe as he looked around, inspecting the milk mothers as they sat with their babies, or the cloth stand-ins for babies that had died already, in their arms.

The Immortan was eager to see his "friend," and they each took a few steps forward to clap each other's shoulders. People Eater wasn't paying much attention to Joe, though; instead, he was staring past him, straight at Warbird as the pups began dusting off her clothing.

"And who's this?" he asked curiously, a dark hint to his already gritty voice. Joe moved aside for him and he took a few more slow steps forward. He had been able to walk on his own back then, just barely, but his polecats were right behind him, hanging back but ready to grab him if he collapsed. Their eyes were also trained directly on Warbird.

"Warbird is full life," Joe said, somewhat proudly. That had been back when Warbird still believed that becoming Imperator extended her life, but she eventually learned better. The half life never really went away. Being a leader didn't change any of that.

"Ain't a war boy, that's for sure!" People Eater boomed. The polecats laughed.

Warbird's nostrils flared and Corpus gave her a warning glance. Rictus moved his head slightly to look, finally deciding to pay attention. She had been in good standing with them back then, although she and Rictus had never quite managed to get along. They tolerated each other in the beginning, though, and Corpus, well…the only way he could fight was with his words, and there wasn't much point in fighting with someone who had little to do with him. She had always felt that the two of them had shared something in common, too.

"Warbird is an Imperator," Joe said, his eyes narrowed. War boys were his property, just like his wives were, and while he occasionally traded and sold them, Imperators were never on the market. They were too valuable.

" _Imperator?"_ People Eater asked, scoffing.

The air was tense.

"How much do you want for her?"

Warbird bristled.

Joe's beady eyes were narrowed as far as they would go. "She is _not_ for sale."

"Oh, come on! Why bother?" People Eater asked. "She's better use if I take her. What do you want? Guzzoline? Flamers?"

"She is _not for sale."_ Joe growled.

"Well, you're not using her, obviously. Why hang on to her?"

Joe's personal guards began moving toward him as the polecat's grinned. They were still fixed on Warbird, though. She didn't know which would be worse—being a plaything for foreign polecats, or becoming People Eater's doomed wife.

The mayor of Gas Town continued. "You've got me here for business. I know a good opportunity when I see it. You've got your breeders, and I need more. You can always use more guzzoline, eh? It's a simple trade."

"Do not trifle with me," Joe hissed. "Warbird is an Imperator. She is _not_ for breeding."

"And why not? Looks perfect enough to me."

Warbird had known that her hip and bashed up face were the reasons she hadn't become a wife. She didn't want to be. She was preparing herself for Joe to reveal those flaws in front of everyone—she only minded a little bit at this point—but, to her surprise, he didn't.

It took him a moment to think about it before he finally lied. "There are no flaws. Imperators can be however I want them to be. Are you going to discuss the real point of this visit or not, now?"

People Eater rolled his eyes after a moment and turned away, following Joe to the table in the corner where he made business transactions. The polecats stayed where they had been, though, facing Warbird. They weren't like her boys, and they were watching her much, _much_ too closely. When People Eater left again that day, he gave Warbird one last look, and she was beginning to wonder if he actually wanted her as a wife or as a meal.

To this day, he bothered her. No one had ever tried to buy her again.


	11. And Angharad Goes Under

They had gotten straight back into the cars and taken off after Furiosa, and, luckily, Warbird hadn't seen the People Eater or his boys yet. The Rock Rider canyon was looming ahead of them, but Joe wasn't slowing. The War Rig could be seen entering the canyon, and the Rock Riders definitely weren't going to be happy to see anyone else. It wasn't in the deal that Furiosa had made. She had to be alone.

Warbird was getting increasingly anxious. Had Nux made it through the storm? She hadn't seen him in the short time they had stopped to regroup after the dust cleared, but that didn't mean anything, did it? He was probably among them somewhere.

Right?

The rig was stopped and Joe was still flooring it, determined to catch up no matter what the Rock Riders had to say about it. As the first cars reached the canyon entrance, though, the riders detonated their explosives and the rocks came crashing down, destroying a few unfortunate pursuit vehicles in their wake. Then, just like that, Joe was finally forced to stop as the Rock Riders took off after the rig.

Warbird was still stuck in the Gigahorse with Gunk next to her, peering through the window as boys streamed through to see what had stopped them. Joe got out and slammed the door behind him, stomping over and climbing up the rocks a good ways before turning back to face everyone.

"Clear the rocks! Get everyone through!" he shouted. Immediately after, Warbird saw another Imperator running past, a boy following him.

"Immortan!" the Imperator yelled up to him. "Immortan Joe! I got a war boy here, says he was on the war rig!"

The boy ran forward, his back bent as he held what looked like cloth up to show their leader. Who the fuck had managed to reach the rig through that storm?

"You!" Joe said to him. "Climb aboard!"

The boy turned excitedly and Warbird swore. It was Nux.

"Hey!" she screamed, her voice hoarse. She pounded on the window with her fist. Nux ran past and Rictus pulled him up onto the back of the Gigahorse as Gunk did his best to shut Warbird up for the hundredth time.

She twisted around, ignoring him as she struggled to look through the tiny back window at him. She kept pounding her hand against the worn out glass until, finally, he miraculously noticed her. The Gigahorse was already moving, and in the few seconds he had the attention span for, he looked very confused.

"Warbird?" he asked, his voice muffled through the glass. "What're you doing in there?"

"She's bein' quiet!" Gunk snarled before she could say anything, still wrestling with her.

"LET THEM GO!" She screamed desperately as Gunk forced her down and Nux began disappearing from her vision.

She was sandwiched between Gunk and the seat, trying her best to get away but still failing. She could feel the car moving as fast as it could go, and she could hear the distant sounds of Rictus playing with his flamethrower. That probably meant they had caught up to Furiosa again.

Suddenly, Warbird heard Joe.

"Splendid!" he yelled. "Splendid, that's my child! My property!"

There was a thud and then silence for a moment before another voice cut in.

"Immortan, if I get on the rig, there's a way inside."

"What is your name?"

Warbird tried to turn over again, ignoring everything that hurt, and strained to look up. She could see Nux hanging on to the side of the car, all of his scars fully visible to her. She didn't want him to do this.

"It's Nux," he said. "I'll pike her in the spine, keep her breathing for ya."

Shit. Would he really do that?

"No." Joe said coldly. "Put a bullet in her skull. Return my treasures to me, and I myself will carry you to the gates of Valhalla."

Warbird's eyes widened. That was…what everyone had ever wanted. It's what she had wanted for a very, very long time. She knew it was Nux's dream, and that meant he was going to do everything he could to make it happen.

"A-am I awaited?" he asked.

"You will ride eternal, shiny and chrome."

Warbird could hear the spray of the chrome and knew that Nux was covered in the silver now. He couldn't do this, not today, not now, not to her….

"Rictus! Help him aboard!" Joe shouted.

Nux disappeared again as Rictus pulled him back up and launched him across to the rig and out of Warbird's view. She heard him thump against it as he landed, but then she heard Joe again.

"Mediocre!" he shouted and accelerated, leaving whatever was left of Nux behind.

"Wh-what happened?" Warbird asked.

"Shut up!" Gunk snapped.

"Please," she said weakly, breathing heavily. Then the car was airborne for a moment, and when it landed, her head slammed against the door and everything began getting hazy and black. Sounds were getting hard to hear and her vision was spotty at best, and she was fighting hard against unconsciousness until out of nowhere the car swerved heavily and her eyes were wide open as she was thrown across the cab, hitting Gunk, hitting the roof, hitting anything there was to hit—until finally it stopped, and she blacked out for another few seconds.

Warbird woke up a moment later with her head halfway out a window and her hands in the dust. This definitely wasn't how a car was supposed to be sitting. Dragging herself out, she saw that they had rolled quite a bit, and Joe was standing several feet away holding something, yelling in anguish about it.

Her breath was heavier than ever as she rolled onto her back, tears in the corners of her eyes from the sand all over her face. What the fuck happened? Looking to the side, she saw Rictus just in time to watch him fire a few rounds into the air.

"Get this car upright!" Joe shouted. War boys rushed forward, someone grabbed Warbird, and they tossed her back in when everything was right side up again. They shoved her to the side and, thankfully, someone was kind enough to set her upright in the corner. They had already somehow managed to rip seats out, which didn't necessarily surprise her at all, but the reason that they did was a minor shocker.

Angharad was brought in and laid down, her breathing shallow. Organic Mechanic came in and sat next to her and as quickly as it had all happened, they began driving again.

"What the fuck happened?" Warbird asked once she had the breath and capability to do so.

"Got hit," Mechanic said. "Went under the tires when she fell off the rig. Don't think she's got much longer at this rate."

Warbird felt whatever color was left in her face drain. This was the price they had paid, wasn't it? Splendid was dying now, everyone was gone from the Citadel, people were out of her life forever—where was Gunk, anyway? Dead too?—and all of it was just to get the wives away from Joe. Was it even fucking worth it? She didn't even know if Nux was alive. That thought scared her more than anything, honestly, even though she didn't want to admit it.

"Alright there?" Mechanic asked.

"N-no," she panted.

"Here." He shoved something into her face. "Drink."

The water tasted better than it ever had before and she drank it greedily, guzzling it down as quickly as she could.

"Right. Now if you plan on stayin' in here, you're helpin' me."

She swallowed hard as she scooted toward the dying Angharad. She wasn't ready for this. She had watched tons of boys die before, but never a breeder, and never a pregnant one. Was the child okay? What were they supposed to do if she kicked the bucket? She wasn't equipped for this. She had Nux to worry about too, and it was, for once, all too much.

"Stay with me, now. You pass out and I'm tossin' you." Organic Mechanic threatened.

It was incentive to stay awake and help.


	12. Nux Meets Capable

Eleven

Nux was a failure. He knew that much. It was his time, his moment…he was awaited. The Immortan was ready to carry him to Valhalla. It was what he had wanted his whole life, and now it was gone, and he was just…mediocre. An embarrassment. What would Slit say? Slit would say…well, Slit would say something asshole-ish, but something Nux deserved, probably. What would Warbird say? He still didn't know why she was in the Gigahorse…maybe she was going with Joe, special like she should. He missed her.

But mostly…mostly he was ashamed.

Even though he was curled up in the back of the rig, he could tell it was evening. The sun was getting orange and the sky was calm. He couldn't hear anybody coming after them, and for once everything was just…quiet. He didn't know where they were. He was glad. He never wanted to see them again, now that he had failed so miserably. It was such a simple task…so fucking simple. And he got caught up with the chain, and fell, and he did it right in front of the one person he couldn't disappoint.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to keep the frustrated whimpers from coming out. The blood bag…the blood bag was here. He was driving. The blood bag was driving the rig, and he had been the one who…

Nux heard footsteps but didn't move save for opening his eyes. It didn't matter.

"What are you doing here?"

"He saw it." Nux said, more to himself than the voice, staring ahead. "He saw it all. My own blood bag driving the rig that killed her."

As he said it, it seemed worse, and he closed his eyes again, wishing it would all just go away. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He slammed his head against the floor. It was all his fault. All of it.

"Stop doing that!"

He vaguely felt a hand on his head and heard a soft shushing. Her hand moved down his jaw and he thought of Warbird for a moment. He stopped hitting his head.

"Three times the gates were opened to me," he said, finally looking up at her. She was the breeder with the red hair.

"What gates?" she asked, confusion all over her face. Her voice was soft.

"I was awaited in Valhalla," Nux said. His voice was cracking. "They were calling my name. I should be walking with the Immortan, McFeasting with the heroes of all time…"

He shook his head as she laid down in front of him and he noticed that her eyes were pretty. Her skin was nice and soft, no scars anywhere, no lumps or bumps. She didn't cough up any blood, and there wasn't dirt and grease all over her. She was…pretty. She was perfect.

"I'd say it was your manifest destiny not to."

"I thought I was being spared for something great," Nux whispered. "I got to drive a pursuit vehicle. For a while, even Larry and Barry stopped chewin' on my wind pipe."

"Who are Larry and Barry?"

"My mates," he pointed to the lumps on his neck. "If they don't get me, then the night fevers will."

She reached out and touched his lips with the back of her fingers. He thought about Warbird again.

"I'm Capable," she said quietly.

He swallowed hard. Larry and Barry were beginning to press on his neck again, almost like they knew he had been talking about them. "Nux."

She smiled softly. Everything about her was soft. "Nice to meet you, Nux."

Not long after, Capable had to return to the front of the rig, and Nux was alone again. The sun had gone away completely now, and he was…lonely. Very lonely. It reminded him of that night he and Slit stayed at the Bullet Farm, when all he could think about was Warbird. Right now, though, he was too upset with himself to be anxious about her, even though this was probably a much more worthwhile time to worry for her health.

The rig eventually slowed as he was finally beginning to doze off, and it forced him awake again. He could feel the wheels as they struggled to turn, and he knew then that they were stuck in mud. How far away from the Citadel were they?

He heard explosions behind them and cringed. Joe must have caught up. He hoped Slit was still alive, but at the same time, he didn't care that much anymore. He wanted to die, honestly, but if there was any chance he would hold out and manage to be witnessed doing something great, he was going to wait for that moment. It was remote, yeah, but maybe it was still there somewhere.

Warbird wasn't doing well. She felt even worse than before, and that was saying something. Maybe it was because she was forced to stay awake now, or maybe it was because she was helping Organic Mechanic try to save a very pregnant, very dying woman, but either way, all she wanted to do was curl up and sleep forever. Miss Giddy was there, having been dragged along on the trip due to Joe's anger and spite, and she was helping, just barely. She was more concerned with holding Splendid's hand than comforting Warbird as she struggled to keep her vision and move around.

"Ain't lookin' too good," Mechanic said.

"That's an understatement," Warbird mumbled.

The Gigahorse slowed and for a second she was afraid it was because of her comment. When she heard People Eater shouting outside, though, she realized that they were stuck…in mud. They had reached the place where the crow people lived.

Splendid's breathing was shallow and practically nonexistent, and after a few moments, Mechanic called up to Joe.

"Boss!" he shouted. Warbird moved to sit next to Miss Giddy, watching with eyes as wide as she could make them. She had never seen someone die like this before. This was slow and quiet, and very, very sad. She was used to explosions and screaming, cars rolling and war boys flying out of them. That was better, somehow.

"Your girly's breathin' her last," Organic Mechanic said.

"What about the child?" Joe asked as he looked in. The Mechanic grabbed something and put it on top of Angharad's swollen belly, listening intently.

"It's gone awful quiet in there," he said.

Warbird swallowed. For some reason, she had hoped something good might come out of this and the child would survive.

"Get it out!" Joe yelled.

Mechanic grabbed a knife and Warbird groaned on the inside. This wasn't what she had signed up for at all. She really didn't want to watch this. She didn't know much about babies and having them, but she could guess that it wasn't generally supposed to be like this, in a dirty car, with dirty blades. Thankfully it was over quickly, and though her face was even paler than it had been, she was still staring as the Organic Mechanic pulled a small body out of a dead woman.

"Cryin' shame!" he called to Joe. "Another month and you could've had a viable human!"

"…Was it a male?"

"Your A-1 alpha prime," he slammed the lifeless thing down and grabbed the fleshy chord that still ran to Splendid. "Hey Rictus! You lost a baby brother! Perfect in every way."

As Rictus shouted the news, Warbird knew that whatever happened to her next would be very, very bad. Joe had lost a wife, a lot of resources, and now a child that was perfect—perfect in every way. He had been born and died in the same night, and that just seemed so very…pointless. Angharad had been climbing on the rig, hadn't she? Why would someone with a little life growing inside them do that? Was it just because she hated The Immortan Joe that much? Was she convinced that he would have grown up to be like his father?

She frowned. Would he have? Rictus did…sort of. And Corpus did as well…sort of. And Scabrous was…kind of close to Joe. If this baby would have been perfect, did that mean that he would have ended up exactly like his father? Even Joe wasn't perfect, and he knew that. Wasn't that the point of having all these babies, trying to get the right one? He wanted the perfect heir to take over after he died, so did that mean the baby would have just…done that?

He would have grown up around the war boys, and if none of this had happened, Warbird might've trained him in something at some point. He wouldn't be a normal war boy, though. Yes, he would have been tossed in near the other pups, but he would always be allowed in that nice biodome with the wives, where the air was so much fresher than anywhere else. He would have known that he was royalty. Maybe he would have flaunted it.

"Yeah." Organic Mechanic said definitively as he cleaned his knife. "That's that, then. Better burn these."

Warbird was always a little surprised by his apathy.

"Someone help me lift her!" he called as he opened the door and wrapped Splendid in bloody rags. A few war boys jumped off the back of the Gigahorse and took her while Joe followed, bellowing in anger and pain over the death of his son. He really cared greatly about this.

Miss Giddy wrapped the baby up in what few rags were left, covering it completely. Warbird didn't even have anything to say. This entire journey was starting to leave her hollow, after what she was seeing and experiencing. Maybe she wasn't going to make it to the green place or the Citadel ever again; maybe she was going to die out here, surrounded by people but utterly alone at the same time. Maybe it was time she stopped hoping that she would make it out of this.


	13. What Is Love?

Twelve

The Immortan Joe didn't deal with grief well. It wasn't something he experienced very often, but when he did, he took it out on others, and right now, all of his rage and sadness was directed straight at Warbird. She really couldn't tell if he was genuinely upset over the loss of Angharad or if he was just being selfish, but she really couldn't afford to care about the distinction, especially while bound and gagged next to what used to be Joe's most prized possession.

He had made quick work of subduing her-not that there was much to subdue—and she really couldn't tell where they were or what was going on as she sat in the corner, trying not to breathe in the smell of blood and death that was filling up the cramped space. She was exhausted, and whatever fire once burned inside of her was dwindling down to the tiniest flame possible. It wasn't quite out yet, but it definitely felt like it was. Her limbs ached, her head throbbed, she was sweaty and gritty with sand, and she truly, honestly, just wanted to go home.

It was still so ironic, how she was finally out in battle but wishing for anything else. This wasn't like any other time she had ever gone out on the Fury Road; this was miserable, and full of pain— _her_ pain—and just downright horrible. None of her boys were there to help. Nobody was on her side. She was completely, utterly _alone,_ something that she was never used to. Okay, sure, she knew what being alone was like, but never like this, never so…isolated. It was unsettling, the way that she couldn't move at the head of some kind of formation, or give out any orders, or regroup with anyone. It didn't help that the Organic Mechanic was peacefully ignoring her, cleaning his knives while Miss Giddy cried over Splendid.

So yeah, that fire was going out a little bit more every minute.

Warbird felt the Gigahorse slow to a stop and heard her blood rushing in her ears. She began struggling to stand up, that little flame trying and trying its hardest to keep burning, but as soon as she managed to find any kind of footing and even get her bearings, Joe burst in and seized her arm, dragging her outside. When she landed with a thud, she discovered that they were quite literally stuck in the mud, every single car stopped while war boys tried to get them moving again.

Joe let go of her and just stood there for a moment, watching her over his mask, breathing heavily with the effort of pulling her out of the car. She didn't know what to do, and she was too disoriented to figure out anything other than standing up again now. The boys around them were all shouting over the sound of engines, no one voice cutting above the others. They just melted into one loud drone, loud enough that they couldn't be ignored but stale enough that there was nothing to listen to.

"This is _your fault!"_ Joe shouted, striking Warbird across the face hard enough to send her stumbling and falling backwards into the mud just as she was beginning to get her footing for the second time. The gag in her mouth loosened and slipped down around her chin just in time for her to split her lip.

Her face hit the cold ground and she squeezed her eyes shut as the slop splashed over her head. Joe grabbed her again, this time by the back of the shirt, and pulled her up out of the mud only to hit her again, this time cuffing her ear. Everything started ringing, but she managed not to fall this time, despite her bound hands and lack of balance. She wanted to clutch her ear, or her face, or anything, really, and she couldn't differentiate between mud and blood as everything ran down her neck.

"I didn't-do anything," she panted, stumbling away a few steps.

"Liar," Joe hissed, stomping after her and grabbing her by the front of her shirt to pull her close. All of his movements were quick and rough, not calculated in any way. It was a tantrum.

He took her face in his hand, holding her still when she tried to look away. " _Cripple._ " With that, Joe shoved her away, kicking her in the stomach when she went down onto her side before turning away.

Warbird almost immediately began coughing, her abdomen tightening every time she convulsed. Liquid jumped up into her mouth, hot and metallic. As she strained her neck to look up, blinking through the mud coating her face, she spat out a glob of blood.

"Fuck you."

Joe froze, and Warbird realized that the boys around them had fallen quiet. "I have no patience for this."

"Then just kill me!" she shouted, baring her teeth as more blood filled her mouth.

"A waste of time."

The war boys had been watching the altercation for a while, and none of them really knew what to do. They had no idea what joe was so upset about, and most of them had been confused about Warbird the entire trip, wondering why exactly she wasn't with them and what she had done to make him so mad.

So...what now? They all knew her-or knew of her-and liked her. They respected her. They admired her. But they worshipped Joe...he was their leader, practically a god-King, just a step down from V8. They all wanted to be closer to him and gain his favor, because then, obviously, they could go to Valhalla. He sometimes promised to carry them if he was the one to witness their deaths, and that's all they ever wanted. They lived for that glory, because what else was there to live for? They were all living half lives anyway, their bodies breaking as the clock ticked and their time ran out. A glorious death was the only thing they could really look forward to. It gave them a sense of purpose.

But they had just watched their all-powerful leader hurt one of their own. She was already hurt, and he had made it worse. What did that mean? Did they follow him? He hadn't given any orders yet now that his bride was dead and the rig was disappearing into the distance, and as they all sat around and began looking at each other, their confusion only mounted. She had stood against him, hadn't she? ...why? What was the point in doing so? There was no reason to. They were all happy enough with him...except for how he had treated her.

Warbird was still on the ground, straining to stand up. Her legs only worked so much, and her hip was a broken record by now, but she was going to start inhaling mud if she stayed where she was, and that seemed worse than the pain.

As she struggled, someone began helping her up, grabbing under her arms to hoist her into the air. Her head hung limply as she was lifted, her chest still heaving with the effort of breathing. Her insides were hurting, and blood just kept coming up over and over. When it wasn't all the way to her mouth, it was in her throat and pooling in her lungs, constantly reminding her of its presence.

"C'mon," the war boy behind her said as she slumped against him. "That's it." he dragged her through the mud to his car, pulling her in so that she could sit down on something other than the ground.

The others slowly crept up around the open door, peering inside. One of them grabbed a rag and brought it to Warbird, carefully cleaning her face off while she continued coughing. The boy that had picked her up at first was sitting on the seat next to her, pulling her hair out of her face as she continued hacking.

She looked up to see the expectant eyes of a dozen or more war boys and raised a shaky hand up to wipe her mouth off. "Rough day."

They weren't buying the humor.

"What did you do?" one of them asked quietly.

She looked at him tiredly. "Got in over my head."

"How?" he was young.

She looked down and shrugged, shaking her head. "It just started with a conversation."

"With?" he was barely older than a pup.

"The brides."

The boys all looked at each other uneasily.

"I only visited once. Furiosa made that plan...she said she needed my help. Joe found out and then Rictus tossed me around." she looked up at them again. "But you remember that."

"Then what?" she knew him, but she remembered his face being much smaller, much rounder than it was now.

"I saw 'em again, and then everything started, and then it all went downhill...they wanted me to stop you."

"Why?" she remembered him as a child filled with innocence, never having seen war.

"All of you. To buy more time. I couldn't even if I wanted to."

"...Why?" he had been one of her pups.

She looked that one war boy right in the eyes with some of the last strength she had left. "You're my boys."

He stared back at her. "You're our Warbird."

She let out a weak laugh that quickly devolved into a small coughing fit. "I failed you. I'm nothing."

"No." he reached forward and took her hand, blood smearing onto his fingers. "You're a hero."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm unworthy of Valhalla. I'm going to die a stupid and mediocre dea-"

"Even Slit wouldn't think so."

"You know he would."

"This is pointless." An older war boy said.

"What is?" Another asked.

"All this," he said, spreading his arms out. "Stuck'n the mud, runnin' after the rig. It's gone. Ain't catchin' it now."

"Well what else are we supposed to do?" Someone snapped. "This is what Joe wants. I ain't a traitor."

"Joe killed his own wife!"

"You're questioning him?" he asked angrily

"Maybe I am."

"This ain't the way into Valhalla, is it?" A boy in the back said.

"It's a battle. Ain't that all that matters?"

"We should be killin' buzzards, not fucking around with this. The rig's gone. It ain't comin' back, and we ain't getting' outta this shit." he kicked at the ground, mud splashing up. "And now we gotta deal with those Gastown creeps…."

Warbird had to admit he was right. They were definitely creeps.

"Look, all I'm sayin' is…" he was scrambling for words.

"What?" the older boy asked, looming behind him. "Is everyone fucking traitors now? Is that it?"

"Shutcha trap," another older boy said. "Go work on that motor. We got bigger shit to worry about. Go on, get." he began shooing him away and a few others followed suit, mumbling to each other as they went back to their cars.

"Need anything?" the young boy in front of Warbird asked.

"Water?" she asked hopefully.

"Mother's milk. Otherwise, the closest we got here is mud." he laughed at his own joke and stood up. "Be right back."

She started coughing again, blood still oozing from between her lips with every heave. "Fuck."

"You need to relax," the boy behind her said, pulling her a bit further into the car with him so that he could lean against the far door while she slumped against him. "Till we can get Organic Mechanic here, you've got to fix yourself."

"I don't know how to do that," she said weakly. "I can't fix anything."

"Yes you can. You're Warbird, ain't ya? Unless I've been wrong this whole time."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're made of metal and fire. You drink and sweat guzzoline. You're covered up in oil, 'cause you need it to 're more machine than any of us."

Warbird didn't have much of a chance to reply before the young war boy came running back, excitement all over his face as he handed her a pouch of milk. "Bullet Farmer's hit!"

"What're you on about?" the boy behind Warbird asked.

"That blood bag must've got him. He's blind."

"Shit," Warbird said quietly as she did her best to sip the milk without choking.

"Blood bag's a good shot," the boy behind her agreed.

"Wish he'd do that to People Eater." she said flatly.

"Why?"

"He tried to...buy me once." she said amidst a few coughs. "Wanted an-another wife."

The younger boy wrinkled his nose. "But you're not a wife."

"Yeah, because Joe wouldn't trade me." the one good thing he'd done for he, she realized. "Otherwise I'd be dead by now."

That was it. The one time the Immortan Joe had actually helped her, the one time he had been worth something to her. It was only because she was valuable to him. He only kept things he could use, she realized, and that's why she was no longer worth any ounce of his time. When war boys thought that something was unfair, it meant that it was really, _really_ unfair, and right now, what had happened to her was apparently one of the most unfair things of all, judging by the way they were acting so cautiously all of the sudden.

The younger war boy, Clutch, eventually left, having been called by his driver to try and get the car out of the mud again now that there were free chains to use. The sky was dark and the air was cold, and Warbird was grateful for the older war boy sitting in the car with her. His name was Axle, and he had been a black thumb before enlisting from the workforce, which explained why Warbird didn't know him. He was bigger than most of the others, closer to Rictus's height than any war boy she could think of, but right now, all that mattered was that he was warm.

And he was protecting her.

He was dozing, but Warbird couldn't sleep. Everything was hurting more and more, and while she was getting used to it, that didn't make the night any easier to get through. It seemed like her problems were just mounting up now, and all she could do was sit there and try to remember how to breathe. She was wheezing, a disgustingly loud noise when everything else was dead silent, and, with her luck being as shit as it was lately, it attracted the unsavory company that was the People Eater's personal war boys.

"Well, well," one of them rasped, putting a hand up to the roof of the car as he leaned in through the busted window. "You're still alive, eh?"

"Fuck off," she hissed.

"Not a very nice way to greet somebody. 'Specially since it doesn't seem like you're in a position to be rude right now." he grinned and opened the door so that he could come back and lean in over her. "Bet People Eater _really_ missed out on you, didn't he?"

"Yeah," his buddy said, leaning in behind him. "Would've been a great deal."

"Then maybe he would've passed you around for a share before…." he drew his finger across his throat.

"I'm an imperator!" she said as loudly as she could. Apparently it wasn't loud enough to wake Axle, and now that she was out of breath from the effort, she was already regretting it.

"Come on, we saw what happened. You're not Joe's imperator anymore. You're nothing to him now."

"But hey, there's some good news. People Eater doesn't have you, so we get you all to ourselves…."

"This isn't exactly winning me over," she managed to squeeze out.

"We don't gotta win you. Just...take you." they cackled as one grabbed her bad leg. She barely managed to kick at him, struggling to keep him away from her. This was the kind of thing that terrified her the most.

The kicking finally woke Axle and he sat forward, leaning past Warbird with a deadly look in his eyes. The Gas Town boys froze, staring at him as he leaned toward them. They stumbled backwards, falling over each other as they tried to put a safe distance between themselves and the car.

"Why're you getting her all to yourself?" one of them called when they finally decided they were out of the danger zone.

"Go away, meat heads." Axle yelled. He kept one eye on them and the other on Warbird as she began coughing again. "You okay?"

"Define that," she growled.

"Did they hurt you?"

"No."

"So you're okay?"

"I guess." she coughed a final time and laid back against him. "This is shit."

"What are going to do?" he asked as he settled himself again.

"Why the hell are you asking me?" she asked in irritation. "I'm fucking useless right now."

"I figured you have the best ideas. You know more than everybody, anyways."

She closed her eyes. "I just want this to be over with."

"What exactly happened?"

"Furiosa told the wives about the green place, whatever the hell that is." she was quiet for a moment. "They decided they wanted to leave, especially Angharad, so they waited until she could take the rig."

Axle wrinkled his nose. "Didn't she know we'd come?"

"Oh, she knew. She did it anyways, and now here we are." she sighed. "I know they were unhappy...I would be too if I were them, but…"

"They're breeders. It doesn't matter if they're unhappy, does it?"

"They're girls." she snapped. "They're people."

"Breeding is their job."

She tried to sit up. "If people who can have babies are supposed to have babies, then why did you just make those Gas Town boys leave?"

"Cause you're not a person who's supposed to have babies. Duh."

Warbird made a noise of irritation. "I would've been like them if I wasn't broken like this. Could've been me under those tires earlier."

"No...you're a war boy."

This wasn't getting anywhere anytime soon. "You know Joe doesn't love them, right?"

Axle shrugged. "I guess it doesn't really matter. They're his."

"So if you were a warlord, and you could have wives, would you?"

He laughed loudly. "Well, yeah. Warlords are the only people _with_ wives. 'Course I would have at least one."

"Would you love her, or would you just force her to have your children?"

He was quiet for a moment. "Love...isn't really real."

"Why?"

"It's something you trick yourself with. Look around. Where's the love?" He shook his head. "I love doing what I do, but that isn't _love_. Maybe a long time ago before the wars love was something people really had."

Warbird was starting to think differently. "I think maybe it is real. I don't know, though."

"Do you love Nux?"

"What? No!"

He grinned. "You feel something there, don't you?"

"I thought you said love isn't real."

"But you do, don't you?"

"...No." she said defensively.

Axle closed his eyes again. "Whatever. I'm going to sleep. Wake me up if anymore assholes show up."

Warbird grunted in response and shut her eyes as well. She totally didn't love Nux. She just...really liked his company. That was all. Besides, she had bigger things to worry about right now, like how she was going to survive the next few days. Love, if that's what it was, could definitely wait.

That's what she kept telling herself as she tried to fall asleep: it can wait. Right?


	14. The Stand

The sun was hot again. Warbird actually missed the chill from the night before, but she was grateful enough for the daylight that it was bearable. Nothing at all was happening, and she was left with no choice but to sit down in the shade next to a car and wait for someone to decide to do something. The good news, now, was that she was coughing less, and there was only a moderate amount of blood in her mouth at any given time.

It was a sad improvement.

She had ripped her shirt up so that it more resembled something the wives would wear, using the scraps to cover various wounds and pad various bruises. While she was tearing the cloth, she finally realized just how filthy it was, and grimaced as she tried to remember the last time she had gotten a new set of clothes. The fact that she couldn't come up with anything was disappointing in itself.

Everyone else just sat, war boys eyeing each other warily. Just because the Citadel was allied with Gas Town and the Bullet Farm didn't mean anything. There was still a lot of potential for violence, especially when they were all out in the middle of nowhere, not at all close to any semblance of civilization. Warbird was really hoping that nothing broke out, because if there was a fight, she was pretty much fucked.

It was around midday when she found the strength to haul herself up and go on a search for something to drink that wasn't her own blood falling down her throat. All she came up with was mother's milk, and while it was warm and not at all refreshing, it was better than dying of dehydration. Her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten in what felt like forever, and her next mission became finding food, which proved marginally harder than her last quest was when she realized that not only was there barely anything to consume out in this wasteland, but also that nobody was willing the share what meager scraps they had managed to find.

All she found was a bug. Again, it was better than nothing, but just barely. She was used to not eating for days on end, and crunching on it quieted her stomach a tiny bit.

Immortan Joe seemed to be sulking, and the People Eater and recently blinded Bullet Farmer were getting extremely fed up with him. It led to the agitation of their armies every time anybody overheard them complaining about their losses, and as Warbird made her way back to the shade, she passed a few boys who were growing close to throwing punches at a Bullet Farm polecat.

"Knock it off," she snapped. She was surprised when they listened.

It was then that Joe stormed over to her, seemingly out of nowhere, and grabbed her by the hair.

It was getting really old.

"You owe me." He hissed, his breathing machine only adding to the noise.

"For what?" She asked in irritation.

"Damage to my property!"

"I wasn't the one who ran her over." She growled, her eyes narrow.

That really seemed to do it.

With a gurgling roar, Joe cuffed her over the head, sending her ducking over while her ears rang. She swore under her breath as she tried to dodge another hit, almost making it out of the way as the edge of his hand clipped her jaw.

"This is getting…" she coughed and wheezed a few times as she wiped some blood away from her face. "...really old."

"You insolent little-"

"Immortan!" A voice called.

Joe froze almost completely, nothing but his eyes moving as he tried to find the speaker. The war boys were all still, save for Warbird, who straightened up as best she could to face their leader as he scanned the small crowd scattered amongst the cars around them.

"Who was that?" He asked, his voice dangerously low.

"Leave her alone!" The voice yelled. Heads turned, eventually pointing towards one young war boy who stood holding a wrench.

"Clutch, stop it." Warbird commanded when she saw who it was.

"You dare to speak against me?" Joe asked, expecting the boy to back down immediately like they always did. They revered him, after all; if someone ever got rowdy like this, all he ever needed to do was remind them who exactly it was that they were talking to and the problem was taken care of. On the off chance that it didn't work, the others always made sure that the boy in question would never speak against anyone ever again.

"Yes." Clutch said firmly, stepping forward through the tense air.

"Clutch, stand down." Warbird said, her voice as harsh as she could make it. But there wasn't any fire left in her eyes, and the others could all see it. There was nothing that they recognized there.

Rictus crept up to stand next to his father, his head tilted curiously as he watched the exchange. He cocked the gun in his hands. "Want me to kill him?"

Joe narrowed his eyes. He didn't want to make a martyr out of this boy, but he didn't want him to encourage the others, either. "Give me that." He yanked the gun away from Rictus and aimed it, pulling the trigger before anyone had a chance to react.

Warbird jumped at the noise, her stomach dropping when she saw the bullet tear through Clutch's lower jaw. Blood splattered out, running down his throat and chest, the red a stark contrast against his white skin as he fell back, the back of his head hitting the ground.

The boys around him all stumbled back in shock. They were used to seeing each other get shot, but not by Joe. This was the most dishonorable death anyone could have-Clutch never had a chance to ask for a witness, and while they were all there to see it, nobody dared speak up about it. What were they supposed to do now?

"Does anyone else have anything to say?" Joe roared, looking around at them.

Nobody moved.

He turned with a huff, shoving the gun back into his son's arms as he stomped away. Warbird stumbled forward, stopping next to Clutch and falling to her knees. He was already gone, blood oozing out of what used to be the lower half of his face. She could see a tiny bit of the bottom of his brain where the bullet had torn through to the stem and obliterated it.

At least he didn't have to bleed out before he died.

Rage was bubbling inside of her. Her nostrils flared as she looked up at Joe's retreating form, sauntering as if nothing had happened. Rictus peered down at her for a moment before following his father, but as they left, the tension in the air remained thick. Boys glanced around, unsure of what to do, uncharacteristically sullen as they watched Warbird push herself up off the ground.

"Witness," she said quietly, emotionless as she looked down at what remained of Clutch.

A war boy to her left echoed her, and soon the word was traveling through the crowd, murmured and whispered but still present. It hung in that tense air for several moments, an uncomfortable sensation for the warriors that weren't used to any kind of mourning. For a lot of them, it felt like the world was inverting itself somehow; this wasn't right, wasn't how they were supposed to think and feel. It was strange and different, as was seeing their imperator so broken before them.

But they weren't cowards. They knew that much. Were they supposed to just sit there and pretend nothing had happened? No. Something was changing around them and they could feel it, and as they kept their eyes trained on Warbird, many of them realized that they were beginning to feel pretty lost. Their imperator was starting to seem like the only thing they had left that they understood.

"What now?" somebody asked.

Warbird looked around at them. "What do you mean, what now?"

They all looked so forelorn. She didn't know what to do. They were looking at her expectantly, wanting something to happen, waiting for some kind of order, but she didn't have anything to say.

"We...wait," she said, searching for something, anything to tell them. That was all she had. "Go find something to drink. Go back to your cars. I'll...figure it out."

And so they did, reluctantly turning and leaving. Warbird was left alone, and as she looked out at the blinding horizon, she sighed. Where was Nux? Was he still alive? And Furiosa and the remaining wives...had they made it? She was going to be absolutely livid if they went through all of this only to have everyone fucking _die._

She was left with nothing to do but try to find a patch of shade and wait. The sun was merciless, and Warbird knew that she was weak enough as it was without baking in the light. All she could do was sit under the edge of the Doof Mobile, hiding in the dark as much as she could while everyone else slowly began doing the same. There was nothing left for them _to_ do; they had no orders, and with Joe staying silent, probably trying to figure out what to do himself, the boys were left to tinker with engines and exhaust pipes. Eventually, even that became pointless, and they all resigned to flopping down on the ground to wait for something to happen.

They cast occasional glances over at their imperator, but she always looked away or stared back until they stopped, making sure she gave no indication that they should approach her. They shouldn't. She wasn't in the mood to talk.

She was still furious with their leader for what he had done that day, and every other day that they had been out there. It wasn't fair, and she cursed herself for not realizing sooner. She had been so blind, so naive, just like the rest of them. As much as she thought she could, she had actually never been able to think for herself; she always did the Immortan's bidding, always followed his lead, always chased after his favor like a starving dog. She hadn't thought that things would ever be like this, that she would watch his descent like this. Of course, she hadn't ever thought that she would be helping his wives escape with a fellow imperator, so honestly, this shouldn't have surprised her.

Warbird looked down at herself. She was dirty, sweaty, and bleeding. Her shoddy clothes were stained red and tan, the latter from the mud and sand she so often found herself in these days. She looked at the way she was sitting, forced to situate herself in a way that none of the others ever had to. They never had to worry about their hips, did they? They never had to sit in a certain way. She watched them all sprawl out or curl up, however they wanted to, contorting themselves in ways that she would never be able to.

With a grimace, Warbird hissed at herself. Fucking useless. She shouldn't have been allowed to live this long. What good was she, especially after all the beatings she had endured in this short trip? If they got back to the Citadel, if she _survived_ , she would be confined to a bed-or, more than likely, the ground-for a few weeks, or even months. What good would she be there? The others would all leave her, they would all grow tired of having to take care of someone who couldn't even _sit_ correctly.

How had she gotten this far, anyway? They all thought that she was so strong, that she was invincible. She _wasn't._ She was scared, and weak, and in pain so _much._ All she wanted was to lay down and rest, but she feared now that if she did, she would never wake up. That's how so much of her life felt-like she needed a break, but she could never come back from one if she tried. Years of this had gone by, never ceasing, only growing.

But...at the same time, _years_ had gone by. She shouldn't have lived this long. How had she gotten this far? Anger? Because that's how it felt. Maybe she was alive out of pure _spite._ Maybe that was her _purpose._ In any case, it was feeling like she didn't have much longer, and if she only existed as some embodiment of vengeance, then she knew exactly the person she had to destroy.

The Immortan.

As the day continued, the war boys began perking up. Not because it was cooling off, because it wasn't, but because of what they saw: a figure, standing bravely amongst them, hair slick with grease and motor oil, back covered in scarification and tattoos. As she stood there, as straight as she could, the sun beating down on her, they all began wondering what was going on, and why she seemed so different. They had all thought that her spirit was breaking, based on the way she had been acting, but now…

Their Warbird was back.

"All of you, get your asses down here!" she shouted, her voice stern and commanding. When they all just stared, she repeated herself, anger lacing her words.

They complied, surrounding her curiously. What was going on?

"Today, you all saw what I saw." she said, turning in a full circle to look at all of them. "One of our own was executed. By someone we looked up to. Someone we trusted." She paused. They were all watching her intently, which was good. But was it working? "Today, and on this entire journey, we've seen that our leader is _nothing._ He has _no one._ All of you, his loyal war boys, followed him into battle, and how were you repaid? With _death."_

They began murmuring, glancing around at each other.

She raised her voice. "Who _really_ runs the Citadel? Is it the Immortan Joe, who sits and lives in comfort, surrounded by luxury? Or is it the war boys, the black thumbs, the workers and warriors who are the back bone, the gears, the _engine_ of our home?"

"War boys," a few of them answered.

"Who is it, that when duty calls, go out to throw their half lives on the line? Who will fight tooth and nail to prove their loyalty?"

"War boys." some more of them joined in, sounding more confident.

"Who is it," Warbird shouted, turning in another circle, "that when faced with certain death, with impossible odds, with chances so slim that the sane wouldn't _dare_ try, will drive straight to the Fury Road and _come back out alive?"_

"WAR BOYS!"

They erupted into chants and cheers, and as Warbird looked around at them, a grin found its way onto her face. It was finally time.

"What is your will, imperator?" Axle asked, stepping forward.

"Start your engines." she said. "We're going to make a stand."


	15. Flames

Fourteen

Nux was wondering if what he was doing was right. Crashing the rig to stop Joe from getting back to the Citadel...it was crazy, but the blood bag and the others all thought it would work, and if this was his purpose, then he wanted to do it. There was no way of knowing if Slit or Warbird were alive, and hope as he might, he admitted to himself that the chances were slim that he would see either again, regardless of whether he drove this suicide run or not.

Warbird...shit, he hoped she was still alive. All he wanted was to see her face again and tell her how he actually felt. He had spent the entire night thinking about her, even while he talked with Capable and the others. He had never missed someone so much, or wanted to be with someone like this. Now, as he was driving to his death, he felt panic beginning to overcome him and he almost hit the brakes right then and there.

But this was his duty. If she were still alive out there, then he was going to save her by doing this. They were going to kill Joe and win, and she could go back to her old room in the Citadel and be happy and comfy and never have to worry about Rictus beating her up ever again. If Nux couldn't protect her in person, then he was going to do it through his death.

He really didn't want to die, though. He had never been afraid of it before; he figured it was just something that was inevitable, thanks to Larry and Barry, so he might as well go for something glorious, like an explosion or a car crash. He watched a lot of deaths, but for some reason now that he was thinking about Warbird so much, he really couldn't stand the thought of leaving her like that.

He had so much that he still wanted to say to her. He didn't even know how to express most of it, he just knew that he was feeling things that he didn't have names for. He wanted to sit down and stare out at the sky with her, at night, when they could see all those twinkling little dots up there as long as the dust had settled. He wanted to whisper everything in her ear, never bringing his voice louder than a quiet murmur because they were alone and he wouldn't need to. All he wanted was to hold her, and feel his hands on her skin, and never have to worry about whether he would see her again or not.

And yet here he was, on a suicide mission, doomed to never see her perfect face again. Doomed to never hear her wonderful voice again. Doomed to never hold her beautifully calloused hands, or carry her, or sleep next to her. Doomed to never look into those harsh eyes and see his own reflection staring back at him and know that she was seeing hers in his, too.

He was doomed.

He took a deep breath as he tried to swallow his fears. He had spent his whole life wanting to do something great like this, and he was finally getting his chance to prove himself and stand before the gates of Valhalla. It was everything he had ever wanted, just...not the way it should be. As the blurry shapes of cars appeared on the horizon, he realized that he was getting close to Joe's army and resigned himself to his fate. He couldn't stop now. They had definitely seen him, and all he could do was hit the gas and hope that he would make it.

Warbird hadn't been behind the wheel in a long time.

She was sitting awkwardly, using scraps of jackets and shirts from the other boys as padding, as she heard engines starting around her. Joe had yet to notice anything amiss, but now that things were getting loud, there was no way he was just going to sit by and let them get away with it.

And what exactly was _it?_ Their plan was a loose one. About half the war boys in the entire party belonged to Joe, and nearly all of them had decided to follow Warbird. The rest had come with the People Eater and Bullet Farmer, and they had all stayed, not that they had been given any kind of invitation to join in the revolution. As far as Warbird was concerned, they could all just stay out there in the wastes until the sun grew hot enough to catch them on fire. She had no room or time for them, and whatever happened to them in the end wasn't exactly any of her concern.

Their plan was so undeveloped. They all had almost no idea what they were doing, only that they had to do _something._ So they had come to the conclusion that if they all just got in their cars and left, they would at least have a good chance of escaping entirely and finding a new place to hunker down, or looping back around and taking the Citadel, or catching up to Furiosa and joining her. Whatever the real plan was, they had to get moving first, and that's what was finally happening.

Warbird threw her car into gear and stomped on the gas pedal, tearing through the sand faster than she had ever remembered being able to go. The lancers riding in the back yelled their protests at her rough driving as she shifted and sped away from the rest of Joe's army, her own following close behind and around her. She was out at the point, of course, leading them to whatever their goal was, and from her good vantage point she could see blurry shapes on the horizon.

Were those...cars? Furiosa has definitely managed to get further than _that._ Hadn't she? There was no way she would have stopped so close to Joe, unless she had really needed to. In that case, though, she would have abandoned the rig and gone on foot, and as the shapes grew larger, Warbird realized they were coming towards her just as she was going towards them.

What the hell were they doing?

As they closed in, one of the lancers banged on the side of the car and jumped down to hang onto the door and talk through the open window. "Boss, it's the rig!"

"Wait for my signal. Don't attack until I say so." Warbird decided, narrowing her eyes. She heard the lancer climb back and shout to the others as they came closer and closer. She could see bikes driving alongside the rig, just adding to her confusion, and as sand sprayed up to signal that the rig's brakes had been slammed, she called to her lancers to tell the others to split up and circle around the smaller party.

As they forced the bikes to a halt, Warbird could see that almost everyone was a woman, many of them old, the others...the wives? What the fuck? When she stopped next to the rig and looked up into its cab, however, her eyes nearly melted out of her skull.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" she snarled at Nux as he leaned out the window.

"What are _you_ doing?" he countered with slightly less venom.

"Driving," she snapped. "Away from Joe. He'll be here soon, though. He can only mope so long. Now, tell me what exactly you're up to here."

He was quiet for a moment, just looking at her. "We're going back."

"Excuse me?"

Go _back?_ Back to _what?_ Why would they, of all people, want to be going back to the place they had spent so much effort getting away from? Sure, Warbird was currently at odds with Joe, and sure, she would love to take the Citadel, but was that realistic? Was that something she was expecting to do with Nux and the _wives,_ whom she had almost died for _a lot of fucking times?_

No. It wasn't. Not by a long shot.

"The green place is gone. We're going to take the Citadel while there's nobody there. It was the blood bag's idea."

"...And you trust him?" she was skeptical beyond belief. He was a blood bag. That's all he was good for. He was a slippery one, she had to give him that, but he existed now to supply Nux with what he needed to survive whenever he was almost dead, not make plans to take over the Citadel.

"Are you going to help, or just keep driving into the sunset?" he snapped.

Warbird was taken aback by his outburst. "Let me into the rig."

"No."

"Nux," she said in warning, her tone darkening. "Let. Me. Into. The rig." Why wasn't he listening? He always listened.

He looked down at her from his window, eyes defiant. "No. I have to drive it. It's my destiny."

"What the hell are you on about?" Warbird hissed. Destiny? Sure, whatever, if that's what he wanted to think, but...he was sounding like a crackpot old fool.

"Just trust me." he said, eyes wide with his plea. His lip was trembling as if something were warring inside of him. "Please."

Warbird's mouth pressed into a thin line, but for once, she didn't press. He was obviously up to something, but she didn't know what, and she didn't necessarily care, given that she herself didn't have much of a plan anymore. She only nodded and leaned out the window to look at the scene around her; her boys, drivers and lancers and polecats all surrounding what used to be their war rig, and a little ragtag group of what seemed to be the wives and a handful of old women sitting on bikes.

And Furiosa.

And the bloodbag.

Warbird couldn't help but roll her eyes as she kicked her car into gear, floored the gas, and yelled for her war boys to act as an escort for the rig as she heard tires digging into the red-orange sand. This was ridiculous. It was mad.

"Where're we goin', boss?" the lancer asked as he hopped down to hang from the door.

Warbird only gritted her teeth. "Back."

"Back? ...Why?"

"Because I said so." she looked over at him as he clung to the open window. "Give Nux details on where we left the Immortan."

"Tryin' to avoid him?"

"I fucking hope so." she glanced at the rusted chain sitting on the passenger side floor. That was her only weapon. Would she even be able to use it?

The lancer looked at her in confusion before climbing back on top of the car and yelling the details to Nux. What was he doing driving the rig, anyway? And...wasn't that his old bloodbag down there? And the traitor imperator? None of this made any sense, but then again, nothing did lately. None of the boys really knew what was going on, only that they were done with Joe and, they had thought, the Citadel. But as they turned around and headed straight back for it again, none of them could really be sure what was about to happen and how exactly they were going to pull it all off.

The sun grew higher and hotter in the sky as they drove on, never stopping, only growing closer and closer to Joe and his remaining army, and when the polecats spotted cars on the horizon, a fiery rage rippled through Warbird's boys. It was their time to fight, to kill, to make their mark and go to Valhalla. Nobody cared that Joe wouldn't be carrying them there; they didn't want him. After all, what could _he_ do for them? Nothing. They had someone else to follow.

They had Warbird.

Metal screeched against metal as the two armies met, but the rig drove on, and the escort followed, and Warbird was gritting her teeth and sneering the entire time. She went back and forth between feeling completely calm and having her heart beating so fast she thought she might die, and when, finally, they were caught up in an all out war, flames searing flesh, cars crashing into each other, she was at some sort of tranquil place inside of herself. She hadn't done this in a long, long time, and it was feeling good to be back on the fury road like this.

She shifted gears.

She shouted orders.

She wasn't useless, she was their _leader._ Her boys were obeying her, looking up to her, fighting for her. They were spraying their faces chrome and calling witness to each other, and she joined in whenever she spotted someone in need of it. She felt alive, she felt wild, she felt...mad, just like this entire thing. Anger and life was all swirling around inside of her, surrounding that calm bubble her mind was in, fueling her just like guzzoline. The boys were having the time of their life, killing, fighting, doing whatever they could and whatever they wanted to do as long as Warbird was safe.

It was going so well. War boys were dying, yeah, but honorably. It couldn't be avoided. Warbird was focused on them, on keeping the rig safe, but it was getting harder and harder the closer they got to the canyon, where the road narrowed. The rig didn't slow down, and neither did Joe, so...Warbird didn't, either. She was there, behind the Doof Wagon, when she saw the blood bag up there, hurling war boys off the sides. She thought she caught a glimpse of Furiosa climbing on the rig, and the more she paid attention, the more people she was spotting.

Nux was still driving. Joe was there, Rictus climbing on the back of the Gigahorse towards the blood bag who was coming after him. Wives and old women were in the rig or on top of it. Why wasn't Warbird up there helping?

Squinting against the dust flying through the open windows, she reached out and banged on the roof of her car. Her lancer noticed and dropped down, only to have her drag him in by the throat and awkwardly scoot over while she forced him to take her place.

"I'm going up top," she said, moving towards the passenger door.

"Warbird," he glanced at her nervously, gripping the wheel tightly. "You...you sure, boss?"

She snarled. "Sure as I'll ever be." she grabbed the chain on the floor, threw the door open, and immediately regretted her decision.

Climbing around on moving vehicles seemed a lot easier for people who had full use of their limbs, rather than damaged hips that prevented them from walking correctly, let alone not falling off of cars. Warbird clawed her way out, clinging to whatever she could, hip shrieking in pain that not even adrenaline could drown out. The Doof Wagon was just ahead, and as she climbed down onto the hood, she wondered how exactly they could all do this so easily. She was watching them climb all over these things every day, and now, as she clumsily launched herself onto the back of the wagon, fingers already bloodied, she was realizing how this wasn't exactly the thing for her. She had always just driven, or stood on the back of a car, or ridden shotgun. She had never been expected to do this.

But this was as good a time as any.

The Doof was screaming, blindly shouting after the blood bag that had used his guitar as a weapon, and Warbird took a moment to toss the chain over her torso while he ignored her. Could he even tell she was there?

The rig was in front of the wagon, and Warbird didn't waste time throwing herself onto it. If she stopped now, she knew she would never get going, and as she hauled herself up the back, and almost wanted to take a moment to commend her own efforts. But then, the second she was standing atop the rig, chest heaving with effort, lungs burning with all the dust she was inhaling, she saw Rictus standing up.

"HE'S DEAD!" a voice shouted from the Gigahorse.

Who?

...The Immortan?

The car hadn't stopped, though. Nothing had stopped. Warbird couldn't see who was driving, but as Rictus turned and lunged forward, she realized he knew a lot more than she did, and he couldn't get up there. Stumbling forward, her feet sliding with every bump the rig took, she shrugged the end of the chain out from where it was tucked within itself and unwrapped it as much as she could as she took it off.

This was finally her chance to kill Rictus, after all the pain he had caused her so recently. After dragging her through the Citadel. After slamming her down on the unforgiving rock floor. After everything he had done to inconvenience and injure her, she finally had a reason to give something back.

"RICTUS!" she bellowed, voice hoarse from the sand and dirt and dust.

He turned for a moment, sneering in confusion as he saw her closing in on him. He was bloody, his bald head bruised and uglier than ever. "YOU DIE! _NOW!"_ roared, dropping onto the hood of the rig.

He was reaching for the engine when she finally got close enough to throw the chain, whipping it towards him with a curve that resulted in the end wrapping around his neck. Warbird's hands were bloodied as she pulled it tight, the rusty links grinding against each other as they bit into his flesh, his already red face reddening even more. With gritted teeth, she yanked, dropping to a squat in an effort to steady herself as she felt her hip giving out more and more by the second.

She had never seen Rictus so angry and so determined to live.

He slammed against the windshield as she pulled on him, gasping for air, one hand against the chain and the other reaching out. With a hiss, Warbird tugged again, desperately putting as much strength as possible into her arms as she yanked. She was slowing him down, but not enough, as he righted himself, pulling her forward after him, and he stood solidly, looking back at her while he seized the engine and tore it out.

She had no idea he was strong enough for that.

Horror flashed across her face as the chain left her hands, Rictus having managed to completely free himself from her. Fire erupted, flames springing up around him, and just past the orange blaze, Warbird could see the wives watching from the Gigahorse. The Dag saw her. Capable made eye contact. They were shocked, shocked to see her there, shocked to see the rig going up in flames.

The world felt like it was slowing down. Their mouths were moving, but she couldn't hear anything over the rig, and as the fire grew, she couldn't see anything, either. With a glance behind her, she saw her war boys back behind all of Joe's remaining army, and raised her arms as quickly as she could to signal for them to stop. The canyon was too narrow for this. The rig was going to explode, and it would just engulf them all, destroy them, eat them-

She was off balance. She was falling. A scream left her throat as she slide down the side of the cab, a bloody smear trailing after her. Then, the world slowed down even more. Nothing was moving, nothing was happening.

Then everything was upside down.

Then everything was black.


End file.
